


Impossible

by Whendoestheshipsail



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst with a Happy Ending, BDSM, Because he was meant to be bucky's omega, Bottom Steve Rogers, D/s undertones, Dom Bucky Barnes, Dubious Consent, Hurt Steve Rogers, M/M, Might pretend SHIELD is still around because it makes everything easier, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Only canon compliant through most of CAWS, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sub Steve Rogers, Suicidal Thoughts, Therapy, and then lengths they're both willing to go to in order to make that happen, because alphas are dominant, it's not that relevant but if this seems egregious to you then this probably isn't your story, please read the tags, which is basically forced submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:52:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 49,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22384705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whendoestheshipsail/pseuds/Whendoestheshipsail
Summary: Bucky saved Steve and left him on the banks of the Potomac. Then he disappeared. Steve's therapist wants him to talk about it. He thinks she should go screw herself and leave him the hell alone. What does it matter that they were both alphas who managed to spend all that time together and not have problems? Who cares that he used to be a beta before the serum? And, no, it's not at all relevant that he and Bucky had always thought he'd be an omega. Bucky's omega. And when that hadn't happened, well, yeah, it was devastating. But, that doesn't mean he wants to think about it or talk about it.Then Bucky comes back. And they have to talk about it.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 282
Kudos: 411





	1. Chapter 1

“So let’s talk about you surviving the fall from the helicarrier,” Dr. Berkley, Steve’s appointed therapist, says.

“What about it?” Steve asks, hearing how tired his voice sounds. He should try to make a bit more effort the next time he has to say something.He picks at the knee of his jeans absently. The clock is ticking distantly in the background. It sounds like a bomb. He’s had that same thought every time he’s been here for the last month.

“I’ve heard you like to draw.” 

He stops picking at his jeans. “What now?” That seems out of left field. She smiles at him, cool and professional. Efficient. Like she’s going to diagnose him, fix him and shove him back into the world in a half an hour. Wouldn’t that be something? She stands up, picks something up off a table and comes over to him. It’s a blank pad of paper and a pencil. “Sorry, what do you want me to do with this?”

“It might help you to talk about things if you have something else to focus on. Even Captain America can’t get new trousers every week,” she says, kindly. Which is mortifying because yeah, he had picked at the seam of his trousers last week until they came unstitched at the inside of his knee. Nerves or something. He’d hoped she hadn’t noticed.

He looks at the pad of paper and then at the clock. Twenty minutes left. He sighs and balances the pad of paper on his knee, presses the tip of the pencil into the center of it and waits. What the hell would he even draw?

“So, you get into an epic battle with an international assassin who somehow used to be your best friend, you _don’t_ die, even though you fall several hundred feet into the water below, and then what? Were you unconscious?”

“When I hit the water?”

She nods.

“I’m not sure. It’s all a blur. The doctor said the trauma meant I might never remember.”

There’s a lengthy pause. Should he smile now? “That’s too bad,” she finally says.

He snorts. “You’re the first person to say that. Most people think it’s a blessing.”

“Do you?”

“Who wants to remember traumatic events?” he says, gives his smile of deflection and looks back at the white expanse of paper. Bucky’s beautiful face flashes vivid and terrifying in his memory.

Bucky has amazing blue eyes. Long lashes. He’d tried drawing Bucky when he came out of the ice, trying to remember. He hadn’t been satisfied with what he created, at all. The memories had been so recent and yet too distant, too far away. Sometimes,he wondered if maybe the sketching had been so difficult because it hurt too much to see him again. But, now he knows that Bucky is alive. Can he draw him now?

Bucky isn’t really back. Steve might never see him again. The world is a big place, the Winter Soldier is a ghost. He doesn’t want to see Steve. He left him for dead on the bank of a river. Maybe it’s best not to try drawing him.

“It must have been strange being in the hospital,” she says.

He looks up at her. “I spent a lot of time in hospitals when I was young. And in the war, you know. They smell better than the front. Bleach,”he looks back down, vaguely surprised to see Bucky’s eyes looking back at him.

He tilts the paper. She’s most likely seen it, but she doesn’t bring it up and god knows he won’t. Despite himself, like his hand is possessed, it’s brushing over the paper and filling in Bucky’s face. “I guess that’s gotta be one of the good things. Bucky doesn’t remember the traumatic stuff that happened to him. Doesn’t remember anything. Bad or good. But the bad was pretty awful so maybe that’s alright. Best for him.” _Shit for me. Not that anyone cares, _Steve thinks.

“And the good? Surely he had a lot of good memories, too?”

“Oh, yeah. Being tortured by a mad scientist. Fighting a war and watching people you care about die. Being poor in Brooklyn and scrambling for work and food. Taking care of…everyone. Protecting me from fights. That would technically count as the good stuff.” Cigarettes and booze, the smell of girls and sweat, lipstick smeared on Bucky’s neck, his laugh.

“You lived together. Were best friends. He had a loving family by all accounts. His men looked up to him. Was popular with the ladies. I’ve seen Sergeant Bucky Barnes in pictures and videos, he was very handsome. He looked like someone who smiled a lot.”

The pencil in his hand snaps into two. “I moved my hand, wasn’t paying attention. Oops,” he says, and gives her his most charming grin. A young omega woman had literally fainted when he gave her that look a month or two ago. He’d been doing an interview. It hadn’t been intentional. Tony had thought it was hilarious. 

She smiles at him sympathetically. “It must be odd being a super-soldier. Able to break things so easily.”

He doesn’t laugh. If he starts laughing he’ll never stop. People don’t seem to blame him for breaking Bucky. They should. If anyone thought about it at all, they would.

“Do you want to take the picture with you?” she asks, when the time is up.

No, he doesn’t. But he’s not going to leave it here for her to look at it and make some kind of theory about. He rips the page out, folds it up and puts it in his pocket, hands her back the pad of paper.

“How would you feel about comingin twice a week for awhile?”

“That’s difficult. The world keeps me busy.”

“Nick has approved it. I think it’s a good idea.” she says, gaze sharp. He’s got the distinct impression that she’s onto just how tired he is. Fuck every single one of them, Steve thinks, and manages to keep it off his face. “Respectfully, ma’am, I would disagree.”

“Captain Rogers, I know that discussing one’s feelings wasn’t particularly encouraged back in the forties, that therapy was practically non-existent, and not for the general population, but in this day and age, someone who experienced and endured half of what you did would be very traumatized. PTSD, anxiety, nightmares, depression would all be common.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not a common man, isn’t it?” he says, and heads to the door.

“We’re going to have to insist I’m afraid. Twice a week or Fury will make sure you are not busy.”

Steve turns to face her again. “Is that what he said?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so. But, perhaps a break wouldn’t be so bad. Rest, recover, perhaps draw?”

“I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” Which is true. Theonly thing worse than coming here twice a week would be having nothing to do for days at a time. Well, fuck. “When do you want me back?”

“Let’s say Friday. 10 am.”

He nods in agreement and heads out. He gets onto his bike and finds himself in Brooklyn, sitting on the step of the building across the street from where he’d lived with Bucky. Sometimes, he can close his eyes and pretend he’s back there. The same sounds of people and children, the same chill in the air or the stifling heat. But, once he opens his eyes, it’s all gone.

It’s always all gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam is waiting for him on the front step when he gets back to his place. He’s got a plastic bag filled with Mexican food and a six pack. “Don’t worry, the beer is for me.”

“Very funny,” he says, and opens the door. He looks around the apartment quickly, heart pounding like it always does, some primitive part of him hopeful that he’ll come in and Bucky will just be here, waiting for him. And then…well, that’s it. He doesn’t have any idea what would happen after that, doesn’t let himself get that far.

Sam is chattering away about a new program at the VA. The invitation to check it out is barely concealed. He keeps tossing out the lure and Steve ignores it. He drinks three of the beers and eats the food and then they sit on the couch and Sam tells him all about the movie they’re going to watch and why it’s culturally relevant.

Really, it’s just a mischievous kid who doesn’t want to go to high school, his misfit friends, and a dour principle. Steve smiles, he laughs at the right places and nods along like it makes perfect sense when the main character is inexplicably in a parade. He doesn’t know why the child is named Ferris. That should have been a plot point.

Sam claps him on the back when he leaves, seems relieved and happy that Steve was so engaged. He’s going to text other people and tell them that Steve is doing well. So, that’s nice. Always good to be left alone for awhile.

It’s a good thing he doesn’t know that Steve sits in the middle of the couch because he’s leaving space for Bucky. The idea of him looms so large in Steve’s life that he’s even got a seat on a couch he’ll most likely never see, let alone sit on. If the therapist knew that she’d want to see him three times a week.

***

“I didn’t know James was an alpha,” Dr. Berkley says, her opening salvo on the Friday at 10 am. Usually, it throws him off when someone calls Bucky ‘James’ but he seems to be all she wants to talk about when Steve comes here, so he’s not surprised.

“Yup.”

“And you’re an alpha,” she says.

“You know, I liked the drawing. That helped. Do you have more paper?” he asks, hoping to postpone the multitude of ways this conversation could go down dark paths. If he’s drawing, she won’t be able to see his face.

She smiles, gets him the same pad of paper and another pencil.

“Don’t suppose you have a pen?” One lapse in attention and it’ll snap again.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” she says, and he hates her. He drops his eyes so she doesn’t see the sudden rage in them. She wants to pick him apart, wants to see if he breaks another pencil because he’s emotional, wants to see the cracks in his armor, watch Captain America break down. Then she’ll write it all down and everyone will talk about what a fuckup he is.

“Was it difficult, two alphas living together? It’s rare,” she asks, like he doesn’t know that it’s basically unheard of. The day to day grind of two alphas living together just isn’t worth it. They shouldn’t have wanted to live together.

“We grew up together,” he says, tone clipped. She waits. “And money was tight. We were used to each other. Stayed out of each other’s way.”

“Was one of you more dominant than the other?”

He shakes his head. “It was a long time ago. What can it possibly matter?” he asks, playing up how ridiculous this seems.

“You can’t play coy, Steve.” He hates that she calls him Steve. He never gave her permission to call him that. She says it in an attempt to gain his trust. Everyone thinks they can have a piece of him. Even ifit’s just his god damned name. And yeah, it does make him an asshole to think about having her call him Captain Rogers or even Steven. But, she can’t have pieces of him. Assume familiarity. “You must understand that your history influences your present. Your former best friend is alive, he’s a monster and he almost killed you, surely—“

“He isn’t a monster,” Steve interrupts.

“He’s a killer.”

“Not by choice. He would never harm anyone if he wasn’t forced to. And he would never have hurt _me_,” he says, and his voice trembles. It isn’t rage. He wishes it was rage.

“But, he _did_ hurt you,” she says, softly. Like he’s about to run out the door. “And I’d think the fact that he was an alpha, would contribute to that.”

“Then you’d be wrong. He was the gentlest alpha ever. He took care of me before I presented, when I was weak and bullied. And I wasn’t an alpha until after the serum. I was a beta.”

Her head tilts as she thinks about that. “I did not know that.”

“It’s not something the government was all that interested in spreading. A way to change one’s designation is a big deal.”

“Did things become more difficult when you went to the front? War is stressful enough. But you were both alphas, then. Was that difficult?”

“What does that word even mean?” Getting up every morning is difficult. This is difficult. Nothing about Bucky was difficult. It’s a word that expands or contracts in definition depending upon the subject.

“Did you two argue, were there times when you couldn’t be near each other, couldn’t tolerate the others scent or even share a tent?”

“I had my own tent.”

She doesn’t even blink. “I understood you two shared a tent.”

He shrugs.

“So, was it difficult? Steve?”

He sighs. “No. As I’ve already said, it wasn’t. You want to know the truth?” he leans forward and he can feel the anger burbling up inside him. Why do they want him to talk about this? What does any of it matter? She nods. His voice is so low and menacing that she pushes back into her chair. “Nothing was _ever_ difficult for us. We just _were_.” Somehow, he cuts himself off. Doesn’t explode into yelling and tears as he gives her the information she really wants. He slumps back, runs a hand through his hair.

The clock is ticking again. He should bring his shield with him. What if it ever was a bomb? That’s stupid. Of course there wouldn’t be a bomb here.

“Steve. The audio records from the helicarrier make it seem like you didn’t want to be saved. It would have taken a minute or two to get you off of there and then they could have destroyed the carrier, but you dismissed that plan.”

“Too dangerous,” he says, looking her dead in the eye. He isn’t flinching from this one. “Millions of lives were at stake. Our enemies were scrambling. Every second counted. And I’d been shot multiple times and stabbed. I expected to die. It wasn’t a death wish, it was just practical.”

“And yet, it’s oddly similar to when you had to save New York form being bombed in 1945, isn’t it?”

He swallows. “No. I don’t think so.”

“Steve. Again, there was audio. Again, it sounded like there was time to do something else, to save your life and again it sounded like you were uninterested in doing so. Again, you’d lost Bucky Barnes.”

“I wouldn’t be Captain America if I put my life above others, now would I?”

“But, were you saving people at those two points in time?”

“I was,” he says.He looks down to the paper, begins to draw a square, jagged glass in the middle, a circle falling through it, disappearing into the water below.

“Is that your shield?” she asks.

“Yes. I guess so.”

“We don’t have to talk about it anymore, but I would like for you to think about your life and the value it has.”

What a stupid thing to do. “In what way?”

“Does your life _have_ value? To _you_?”

“All life is sacred.” God knows he’s heard that enough times.

“Including yours?”

“Of course. What sort of sorry bastard would I be if I didn’t value my own life?”

“A lot of soldiers who lose someone, blame themselves. They wouldn’t put a lot of value on their lives.”

“Perhaps you should be clear, doctor. In what exactly you’re accusing me of. Are you saying you believe that Captain America tried to kill himself on multiple occasions? Is that what you’ll be putting in your report?”

“Did you?”

“No, I didn’t,” he says, voice strong, confident. That voice was all his. For all that Dr. Erskine had given him, the ability to sound like he believed in something had always belonged to him.

When the time is up he leaves the pad of paper and his chicken scratch drawing. Who the hell cares anyway?


	3. Chapter 3

Steve found himself back in Brooklyn staring at their old apartment again. But it was only noon so he went to the deli and got a sandwich just like they used to when things were going really well, and sat down and ate it. He tried to think about the ‘good old days.’ Tried to pull up those memories like he always did, but they weren’t there. It felt like every time he went to talk to Dr. Berkeley they got further and further away.

Like maybe he was losing them. With nothing to replace them. He remembers the Winter Soldier snarling at him, fist raised, eyes wild, telling him Steve was his mission. That he was going to kill him. He remembers giving up, giving Bucky permission to kill him.

And then he’d fallen. Sometimes, he thought that there had been hesitation. Sometimes, he’d lie in bed at night and he’d think _maybe_ if the floor had held for a minute longer, that he’d have seen Bucky lower that fist. That maybe he’d have said Steve’s name, ragged and joyous at having found each other again.

And then he’d been taken to the hospital. He’d woken up there and had to get better. As soon as he was able to, he went back. He could see the marks where his big body had been dragged out and dropped. He saw Bucky’s bootprints from where he’d walked away from him. Leaving him there.

Had he known Steve was okay? That he wasn’t dead? Did it make him pathetic that he thought about that when he went to bed at night and first thing in the morning?

The important part was that Bucky had saved him. Or the Winter Soldier had. If he didn’t remember anything about who he was, then why had he saved him?

If Bucky did remember, then why hadn’t he come back? Was Hydra still chasing him? What if Hydra had him again? What if he’d already been wiped and he didn’t remember Steve or Steve’s apartment where he’d almost killed Fury? What if he was dead? What if Steve had made it all this way, through all these fucking years, to just get one look at the love of his life and then lost him again?

He dashed a tear away from his face and looked up, saw someone looking at him from his old window. The lace curtain dropped. Alien, irrational hope flared through him. He stood and crossed the street quickly, forced the building lock with a flick of his wrist and headed up the stairs, stopping in front of their old apartment. The door was ajar but dark inside. He called a hello and pushed it open.

It was empty. He walked through the small living room and then into the bedroom. It had been just large enough for their bed and a trunk. He wondered what the therapist would say if she knew he’d shared a bed with Bucky. An alpha sharing a bed with a beta male? They’d be talking about it for weeks. And, of course, it had meant nothing.

He was about to turn around and go when heard the click of a gun, felt it pressed into the middle of his back. A cold metal hand grabbed the back of his neck, shoved him forward until he hit the wall.

“Bucky?” he asked, forcing himself to stay relaxed and not fight. “James?”

“Hands,” the man said, and Steve put his hands behind his back without hesitation. A thin piece of metal looped over one hand, tugged it to the other, bound his wrists. He could have fought. Bucky had to be looking down to watch Steve get tied up. That was the moment he could’ve defended himself. He didn’t. He pulled gently against the bonds, felt the metal sink into his skin and cut him, knew he was bleeding.

“Fuck,” he said, shocked Bucky would put something so horrible on him. Because Bucky wouldn’t have, but the Winter Soldier would. Whatever this was, he thought it was sharp enough to cut bone. “Buck. You have to remember me. Atleast a little or you wouldn’t be here. We lived here. You and me. Remember?”

The grip on his neck, cold and metallic, tightened when Steve said the word remember. Hard and then harder, so hard he dropped to his knees to try to get away from it. He tried to roll his neck and Bucky’s flesh hand went into his hair, keeping his neck to the side, exposing him, making him vulnerable. The alpha in him didn’t like it, but he forced himself to take a breath, to not fight.

Bucky dropped down behind him, thighs on the outside of Steve’s legs. Bucky’s belt buckle was against his wrists, which meant his fingers were brushing…Steve arched his back, trying to get a bit of space so he wasn’t actively cupping Bucky’s crotch with his lax hands. The hand in his hair hadn’t moved, and Steve’s breathing picked up. He was trembling with the need to fight. No alpha would be able to stay still for this without struggling.

“Buck, you’re really…this is a lot, pal. I won’t hurt you. Let me up. Just give me some space,” Steve gasped. Bucky’s nose grazed his neck as he breathed Steve in.

“Bucky. Bucky,” he pleaded, and he wanted to say more, but there was nothing, his mind was blank. Bucky exhaled and Steve shivered, every hair on his body standing up in response. And then Bucky _licked_ him, the flat of his tongue tasting Steve’s neck. Fucking hell. Bucky’s mouth opened, teeth over Steve’s neck, biting hard, so hard, breaking the skin. He knew there was blood. He knew it. Every instinct told him to jerk away from him. To fight him.

He let Steve’s neck go, his hand slid out of Steve’s hair and down his neck, brushed over the bite gently and Steve flinched away from it. “Bucky, please. _Don’t_.” Bucky touched the bite again, almost reverently. There was a ringing in Steve’s ears and his head tilted, pressing Bucky’s fingers deeper against the wound on his neck without Steve really intending to. Bucky’s hand slipped away.

“Stay,” Bucky whispered, and Steve didn’t know what to say or do now. Literally had no words for what was happening. Bucky undid the ties on his wrist, the loops slipping free. He held Steve’s hands gently, thumbs brushing the marks on his wrists, softly, but it still hurt.

“I’m bleeding,” Steve managed.

“Stevie,” Bucky said, like he’d never said it aloud before, a new word altogether. And then Bucky got to his feet and he left. He didn’t even hurry. There was no need. Steve fell back onto his heels, brought his hands up so he could see them, see the blood that was drying where the fine, sharp metal had cut him. After long moments of breathing and feeling his pulse settle, he stumbled to his feet, legs almost giving out on him and went into the bathroom. He looked in the mirror, saw the bite there, blood filled in the imprints of Bucky’s teeth, the skin already purple in places.

Shame rushed through him. Bucky had _bitten_ him. Dominated him and marked him. He’d forced Steve to submit. Why? Had he felt threatened? Was it so he could make sure Steve wouldn’t try to hurt him? He put a hand over the bite. No one could see this. No one could know. It was a mistake. He didn’t want to hurt Steve, he just didn’t remember how to behave. Maybe he’d forgotten Steve was an alpha, was so out of it he couldn’t sense it.

He’d scented Steve like he was trying to remember, trying to place him. Perhaps he’d got so turned around he still remembered Steve as a beta and just hadn’t realized how messed up he was behaving.

But, he’d come here. He’d known Steve was there, had lured him up here and then gotten the jump on him. He’d both tied Steve up and freed him. What was Steve supposed to do with this information? What did it mean? And he’d touched Steve gently.

Maybe he was over reacting. This didn’t have to be anything serious, it was only as egregious as Steve let it be. Alphas didn’t submit, but Bucky was confused. He ran a hand through his hair and splashed water on his pale face. He shifted his jacket to cover his wrists and adjusted himself, cock half-hard from adrenaline.

He couldn’t leave like this. The bite was vivid and easy to spot. What if someone saw? He took off his shirt, zipped his jacket and tied the shirt aroundhis neck like a bizarre scarf. As long as no one got too close, they wouldn’t know. Steve left the apartment, shoulders hunched up, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze.

By the time he got home he was steadier. He took a shower and for the first time in days he jerked off. He groaned in pleasure at getting hard so quickly but found coming to be a bit more difficult than he’d expected.

He’d been wired and on edge by the time he got home, hadn’t thought it would be difficult at all. It felt good to be aroused, to finally _want_ something and so he’d been trying desperately not to think too much about what exactly it was that was driving him or what it might mean that Bucky was so closely associated with his resurgent sex drive.

But here he was, once again, jacking himself endlessly, and getting nowhere. He switched hands, put his hand to his neck and touched the bite, hissed as the hot water rained down on the marks and came.

That was a bad sign.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We all know I'm a whore for comments. Do I need to beg? Do I?!?! Because I will.


	4. Chapter 4

“I go to Brooklyn sometimes,” Steve said, when he sat down, and started sketching his old building.

“Oh?” Dr. Berkley asked, the surprise clear in her voice. Steve doesn’t volunteer information. Ever. “Any particular days or times?”

“After this. I go and try to remember what it was like. Seems like it’s more difficult to remember every day. But that’s not right, is it? Coming here shouldn’t take away memories?” he doesn’t look up.

“No, Steve. Coming here won’t take away your memories. Does it make you happy to go there?”

“Happy?” He thought about the word and if it applied to him. Ever.“I don’t know about that. But, time passes. I sit there and I think it’s only been a few minutes and an hour will have passed.” Sometimes it was longer.

“Do you feel better when you leave?”

“Sometimes.” He sketches someone coming out of the building. A man. Not Bucky. Not him. “Sometimes, I go home and cry. Sometimes I box and sometimes I just sit and wait for morning.”

“If this is a recent development, is it fair to say that perhaps you’re hoping he’ll find you?”

His fingers still on the paper. “Yeah, I think that’s a fair thing to say.”

“Do you know what you’d say to him if he showed up?”

“I try not to let it get that far. Hope can be a dangerous thing.”

“Not as dangerous as hopelessness,” she says, gently.

“If he didn’t remember me… but he knew enough to go there, what would I say to him? Would there be something I could say to help him remember or feel safe with me?” She’s looking at him suspiciously. Well, Steve thinks there’s suspicion there. He doesn’t actually know.“I dream about it. A lot,” he says. And looks down, draws.

“He’s been very heavily traumatized. It would be a miracle if he remembered anything at all, from what I understand. That’s my impression without meeting him or seeing the file. Like any traumatized alpha, you’d need to be cautious. They can be unpredictable, have a heightened sense of danger. So, if you saw him again, and you wanted him to feel safe, you would need to be as non-threatening as possible. No sudden movements, speak quietly, don’t look him directly in the eye. If you can lower yourself at all, or adjust your body language to show you are vulnerable or unwilling to harm him, that would be best. You say it wasn’t difficult to be with him, even though you both were alphas, but dominance is an instinctive, biological response. He is an alpha conditioned to violence. Your best bet would be to imitate an omega or perhaps a beta, like you were.” He lets it fall into silence. He knows she wants him to look at her. He doesn’t. She clears her throat.

“Do you box a lot?” she asks, changing the subject. He looks at her and then looks back down.

“I suppose. Daily, if I can.”

“Who do you spar with?”

“No one. I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone. And, usually, I’m there longer.” Usually at night, but that doesn’t sound all that healthy, so he doesn’t mention that bit. He also doesn’t tell her that he punches until he bleeds from eleven at night til 1am most nights. That he leaves there hurting and it’s never enough.

That he leaves and the pain is always less than he deserves.

***

Hewakes up and knows that Bucky is there. He hears the gun click as a warning. He’s on his stomach and wishes to god he was on his back so he didn’t have this unknown threat behind him. And, he desperately wants to see Bucky’s face. “You don’t need the gun. I won’t hurt you. Ever.”

“Were you mine?” Bucky asks, and the question takes a minute to process, to filter through.

“We were best friends. We grew up together. The most important person in my life.”

“You loved…this?” he asks, not saying ‘me’ or even ‘him’. But ‘this’ as though his body is a thing. A weapon, he realizes. It makes Steve want to weep that he views himself differently than the person Steve knew.

“_You_,” Steve emphasizes. “Yes, I _do_ love you. And you love me. Like brothers,” he adds, just to make sure they’re on the same page. The bite has him a little uncertain about what Bucky thinks they were to each other. Bucky throws the wrist ties to him and it lands on his right, touching his hand. “I won’t hurt you,” Steve says. “We don’t need these.”

“You will fight me,” Bucky says, but it might just be a question.

“No, Buck. I swear. I won’t fight you.”

“I will leave,” he says, voice flat.

Steve slips one wrist through the restraints, and then the other, careful because they’re so sharp. Bucky hits the safety of the gun and Steve can only assume he puts it away. The bed dips as Bucky gets on, climbs up Steve’s prone body, prowling higher, his thighs touching Steve’s hips as he hovers above him. Bucky takes Steve’s hand and checks the bindings, pulls them taut so he can’t escape. Steve’s heart thuds harshly in response. “Do not pull,” Bucky says.

Does that mean he’s worried for Steve’s safety? “No. I won’t pull. I bled last time, Buck.” He wants Bucky to apologize, to be just as horrified as he would have been before all this.

Warm fingers brush along his neck where the bite was. It’s healed now. He’d had to wear a turtleneck the next day, and had gotten weird looks since it was sweltering outside. “You were mine,” Bucky repeats,fingers gentle, voice low with something beyond simple conviction. Steve thinks it might be lust. Which is bad. He has to stop that train of thought immediately.

“Not like that. I’m an alpha. You’re an alpha. That isn’t how it works. We were friends.”

Bucky’s weight comes down onto Steve’s ass and Steve makes his hands into fists because once again Bucky’s crotch is too awkwardly close. His hands settle near Steve’s shoulders, and he leans forward, his flat stomach against Steve’s fists, and he can feel Bucky breathing, knows it’s accelerated. That Bucky isn’t unaffected by being next to Steve. Since he’s most worried that Bucky is an automaton who doesn’t remember him anymore, this is good. Right?

And then he feels the unmistakable press of Bucky’s cock and Steve opens his hands because all he can think is that no one wants a hard fist and poking knuckles against their cock. But, it means that Bucky’s cock settles into his palms, the wire presses again, close to cutting into him. Bucky growls, low and almost inaudible, the hard length of him, so much larger and wider than Steve would have guessed, makes a strange feeling go through him. Almost like he’s antsy or needs to run twenty miles. 

“Mine,”Bucky says, with such final and forceful intent that Steve thinks Bucky has had nothing to call his own since he was taken. Of course he hasn’t. And it wasn’t just possessions he lacked. He didn’t have his own body, nor his own memories. Everything was gone from him and here Steve is, something Bucky thinks is his, and Steve knows Bucky doesn’t understand what this means. What he’s doing, how he’s treating Steve like a submissive omega when he isn’t that. He’s the furthest from it.

“Bucky, it’s not, this isn’t what we did. Who we were. I’m an alpha,”he says, but it’s a whisper by the end, because Bucky’s lips are on his neck, opening in a soft kiss and oh, fuck, he has no idea when the last time was that someone touched him. It’s so good he wants to cry. Bucky is heavy, warm, and familiar. He smells the same. His hair tickles Steve’s ear and his hips shift experimentally against Steve’s ass.

This is the time to stop this. “Bucky, you have to—” Teeth clamp into his neck hard and then harder, so hard he knows he’s bruising again, that there will be marks where his teeth were. Steve whimpers, shocked that he’s made that sound. He tries to shift under Bucky, to get away or something, but his hips dig down into the bed and Steve’s cock is getting hard and he’s breathing quickly in and out, like he’s about to have a panic attack. Like he used to. Bucky releases his neck, slides a hand under Steve’s chest, palm against his heart. “It’s okay, Stevie.”

Which is everything. It’s what Bucky used to do. _That’s_ who they were once upon a time. Steve, this fragile, ill thing and Bucky, the god who protected him and loved him, even when no one else thought he was worth a damn. When Bucky had looked at Steve, he’d believed he could live past 25.

Before the serum, Bucky had touched him freely. All the time. They’d been told it helped, that babies needed touch and ill people did too. Bucky and his ma had taken that to heart. But when his ma died and the only other people who touched him wanted to beat him up, well, Steve had grown up afraid of everyone’s touch, but Bucky’s.

And, after the serum, Bucky stopped touching him. He wasn’t ill anymore. He didn’t have to. Steve knew he’d missed it, some nights when they’d lain awake with bombs going off too close, he’d wished like hell that Bucky would touch him again. He remembers lying there and being so damned touch starved and heart sick that he’d wanted to dash into the fight and let the fire of it all consume him.

Bucky’s thumb brushes gently back and forth over his pec. All this touching, the soothing, had gone away after the serum. Steve had become an alpha, he’d been healthy. They had no excuse to touch each other. Alphas didn’t touch each other. One didn’t offer comfort to an alpha like this.

Steve calms but tears are on his cheeks. He turns his face to the side, needing air and Bucky’s nose brushes his cheek, pauses when he feels his damp skin. Bucky pushes back and Steve knows he’s going to go. “No, please. Stay longer. You can stay with me. It’s not bad. I’m not in pain. It’s been a long time since you touched me is all. You didn’t hurt me, Buck.” _Well, fuck, that’s going to muddy the waters, isn’t it?_ Steve thinks.

Bucky undoes the loops around his wrists, strokes the skin gently. “There’s no blood. You didn’t fight.”

“No, no, I didn’t fight. I won’t.”

“Good,”he says and his grip on Steve’s wrists tighten. He brings Steve’s arms up, pins them to the side of Steve’s pillow and holds them there as he settles his chest on Steve’s back again. Steve makes a hiccuping sound and Bucky brushes lips against his cheek, tastes Steve’s tears and shushes him, like it’s just another night where Steve might not live to see the dawn.

Bucky’s cock is between his cheeks and he’s grateful Bucky has clothes on. That Steve has sheets and a blanket over his ass, or he has no idea what might happen. What he’d have to stop.

But, this, this is okay. This he doesn’t have to stop. No one will know that Bucky pinned him like an omega and bit him. That he saw the big alpha break down and tended to him like Bucky had a long time ago. If Bucky says Steve is his, and treats him shamefully, there is no one here to know, no one he will ever tell, and neither will Bucky.

So, it’s their secret, it’s safe and if this is what it takes to get Bucky back, then he’ll pay this price. And, when Bucky becomes more like himself, he’ll stop touching Steve willingly and this will stop.

And then, no one will touch him anymore.

Bucky won’t cover him or bite him, won’t soothe him or touch him like he’s worth touching. Which is how it should be. But, not yet. “You make me…ache,” Bucky says, and his cock grinds against Steve’s backside so there is no misunderstanding.“Mine,” Bucky growls and he pushes back to sitting again.

Steve hears Bucky fumbling with his buckle, the zip of his pants opening, the groan of pleasure as he touches himself. Steve fists his hands into the sheets, waiting, muscles tense. This can’t. _No._ Bucky’s hand goes up Steve’s back, touching the skin, running over his muscles. “Beautiful,” Bucky says, and Steve can tell by the sounds, his breathing and the way he’s moving that he’s jerking off, that he’s going to come all over Steve’s back and mark him up like an alpha does to his omega.

He turns his head, takes in huge dragging breaths, the scent of aroused alpha surrounding him and he _has_ to stop this. He’s a damned alpha. This is beyond perversion and wrong. God, if anyone knew. He has to say something, he has to.

And then he feels come splatter on his back and Bucky groans lowly. Steve whimpers when it hits his skin, can feel every warm drop that lands on him. Bucky is breathing heavily and then his fingers slide into the mess and he’s rubbing it into Steve’s back like he really is his omega and he wants the world to know that Steve is owned, that Steve submits for him. Is his for pleasure and to take care of.

Bucky pauses, the fingers leave his back, cool and sticky, brush Steve’s open lips and the smell and taste of Bucky assaults him. He licks it despite himself, not sure why he goes along with it, and feels a visceral response inside of him, like nausea coiling through him but different. Bucky goes back to rubbing his come into Steve’s skin and then tucks himself back into his pants.

Tacky fingers glide along Steve’s neck, over the bite and then to the other side, pausing there. A question. Steve’s face is buried in the pillow again, like he can be an ostrich and pretend this isn’t happening.

It’s a question. One side of his neck is marked. His skin has been marked. But the side where Bucky’s hand is now, warm, callused and gentle, that side of his neck is all smooth and unblemished.

Slowly, half in a daze, Steve turns his head, exposing his neck.

“Stevie,” Bucky murmurs, leans close, weighs Steve down, mouth on Steve’s neck, a swipe of his tongue and then he’s biting hard and harder until Steve cries out, hips arching back against the weight on his ass. Bucky hums in pleasure and lets Steve go, sits back, climbs off of him and then he’s gone.

Long moments go by before Steve turns over and sits up, clicks on his light and blinks into the dark. How could that happen? How could he _let_ that happen? He reeks of alpha come. His hand goes down, cups his own achingly hard erection and he palms himself. His other hand rises, fingers touching the bite. It stings and he gets up, still touching himself and goes into the bathroom to look. He stares at it in the mirror, one side and then the other, touches the broken skin, feels every groove, leans into every flash of pain and licks his lips, the faintest hint of Bucky’s come, salty and alpha rich is still on his lips.

To say it doesn’t take long to come is an understatement. He’s barely got a hand around himself before he comes hard and explosively on the mirror and swears. Who the fuck comes on their mirror?What kind of a savage is he? He’s utterly mortified and gets a paper towel and bleach cleaner to get it all off. Has he _ever_ come that hard? And there was alot of it. So much.

He certainly didn’t have any trouble getting off this time. If anything, he swung too far the other way. Maybe he was just pent up. He tries to think back to the last time he came and realizes it isn’t since the previous bite had disappeared. Once the mark was gone and Steve couldn’t feel it or touch it, his sex drive had just disappeared.

For the sake of his mental health, he’s going to try to pretend it’s a coincidence. Does this count as lying to himself if he knows he’s doing it? He’d almost be tempted to ask the shrink if he didn’t have to admit to being unmanned to do so.

Unmanned. He’s not. Is he? He gets hard. Of course he does. He can fuck an omega or a beta woman. He just hasn’t. He did a few times in the USO and he slept with Peggy and…well, he _could_. Surely, if he wanted to, he could. He isn’t unmanned and unable to get it up. He isn’t unnatural and attracted to men. Or even worse, attracted to his own secondary gender. Jesus. What is that even called? Does it have a name or would he be the first sorry bastard in all of history to even want such a depraved activity?

Steve turns on the shower and stands there for a long moment. The water heats, but he doesn’t get in. He doesn’t clean himself up and wipe Bucky off of him.

Fuck. He should.

Finally, he turns the shower off and goes back to bed, taking a box of kleenex with him. His room smells of alpha and come and he’s hard before he’s under the blankets. He throws them back, jerks off again while pressing fingers hard against one bite and then the other. The second bite was gentler. Maybe because Bucky had just come? Bucky had come all over him and been content after, so the bite wasn’t as savage. He’d touched Steve so sweetly, made sure every drop of his essence was worked into Steve’s skin.

Steve comes hard, hearing the echo of Bucky’s moan deep inside himself. Steve turns off his light, feels oddly giddy and content. He sleeps deeply, with no dreams (ie, no nightmares) and in the morning he comes again, wakes up with his hand already frantic and his neck pressed hard into the pillow.

He’d meant to go to the grocery store and to the gym. But, if he leaves the apartment he has to shower. He’ll have to wash Bucky off of him or people will know. He stays home instead, reads in bed all day and checks on his bites, can practically see them healing before his eyes. A stab of bitter disappointment fills him. He jerks off several times, skin hot and tight, and he can feel the phantompress of Bucky’s lips on him, the touch of his hand on his back and he’s so hungry for it that there isn’t room in his mind for anything else besides Bucky. He comes with Bucky’s name on his lips and doesn’t know who he is, isn’t sure he cares, because at least he feels alive. The possibilities and pleasure outweigh the shame and grief he’s been cloaked in. 

The scent of alpha, the reek of sex on his skin and the marks on his neck are all he has of Bucky and soon it will be gone.

He doesn’t know how he’ll face it.

Bucky had been gone a week before he came back and bit him again. Would he come back in another week? If Steve were human, it would take him a week to heal from Bucky’s bite. Was that why Bucky had come back? Because he couldn’t stand the thought that Steve would be walking around without his mark?

What if he told Bucky that he healed quickly? Would he come back sooner, reassert his dominance over Steve? And then what, some small, sane part of him demands. Is Steve really going to get bitten and spunked on all the time by his alpha, amnesiac, best friend? Is Steve Rogers really going to continue breaking one of the biggest taboos that’s out there? 

That’s not a solution. And Steve doesn’t want that. He _can’t_ want that. If Bucky were in his right mind, he wouldn’t want it, either. That’s the fucking truth.

The insanity of it, the shocking sinfulness of what he’s thinking, what he might want forces him out of bed and into the shower. He washes every last trace of Bucky down the drain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to the people who have commented and left kudos or sent positive vibes out into the universe. I really appreciate it and it's why I always wind up posting so fast. It makes it so hard to wait when validation is possible with the click of a button!


	5. Chapter 5

Nat is there to see him at 9am the next day. She comes bearing coffee and donuts so he lets her in. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asks, stifling a yawn.

“You didn’t go to the gym yesterday and destroy any bags, so we feared you might be dead.”

“Nope. I’m fine. Just a little under the weather, I guess.”

“Guess so, if you’re wearing a turtleneck in summer.”

He blushes. “Yeah, sore throat. Back in the day, you’d wrap your throat up warm.” She rolls her eyes, something all of the Avengers do when he says, ‘back in the day’ like he really is a hundred years old.

She nods. “Uh huh. How goes the hunt for Bucky?”

“Same,”he says, and puts the donuts on a plate, stands on the other side of the island in his kitchen so she won’t reach out and try to see his neck. He feels like some poor girl in a vampire movie, trying to hide Dracula’s feeding marks. He hopes it’s only paranoia making him think she doesn’t believe him. That given half a chance, she’d yank his shirt down and look.

“You usually text me every other day for an update,” Nat says.

“You never have anything.”

Her smile isn’t kind. “When has that ever stopped you?”

“I guess I just keep wondering what he’d be like if I managed to find him, you know? If he remembers me at all.”

“I don’t know. And, I doubt he would. Maybe bits and pieces, but he was held for a long time. He won’t be the friend you knew.”

“Yeah, you’ve told me that already.”

“I’m thinking I need to tell you that again.”

He eats a glazed donut. “They’ve got me going to therapy twice a week now.”

She snorts. “Suicidal ideation?”

“What? No,”he says, instantly defensive.

“Everyone around here, except Thor, has an unhealthy obsession with death, Steve. It doesn’t mean anything bad. It just means you might need some help. Which you’re getting, so that’s good.”

He grunts, reaches for another donut.

“You could stay with me,” she says. “If you’re a danger to yourself.”

“No, thanks, though. I’m fine. Honestly.”

“Okay, well you have my number if you need me.” She stands up, ready to go. He walks her to the door and has no choice but to give her a hug. Of course, she pulls down his turtleneck and looks at his neck.

“It isn’t what you think,” he says, immediately.

Her brow raises. “Oh, Steve. I don’t know what I think, but that isn’t what I expected.”

“What did you expect?” he asks, adjusting the fabric to cover it up again.

“No idea. A pimple? An ugly rash? Maybe a hickey.”

“It’s fine. It’s almost gone.”

She blinks. “Wait. How bad was it?”

“What?” he asks, realizing too late that he’s said the wrong thing.“It wasn’t bad. It’s fine. Just a little darker that it is now.”

“Bucky is an alpha,” she says, slowly.

“It’s not him.”

“You’re an alpha.”

“It’s _not_ him. Natasha, you need to keep your mouth shut.”

She touches his face, looks into his eyes. Worry and pity are the key emotions he sees there.

He needs her to understand. “He doesn’t get it. He’s not doing it out of violence. He’s just confused.”

She makes a non-committal noise. “Do you have marks anywhere else? Has he punched you or threatened you? He could kill you.”

“No, of course not. He isn’t Bucky, but he isn’t the Winter Soldier either. He’s remembering.” Isn’t he?

“Is he going to hurt you?” she asks.

“Only my pride,” he finally mumbles, and blushes.

“That’s fine. Men have too much pride, anyway. Two alphas… sounds hot. Look, I won’t tell, so long as you can promise me you’re being careful, and that he won’t hurt you. If you need me, you call. No judgment. Is this why we didn’t see you, because he gave you a claiming bite?”

“That’s not what this is,” he says, and it sounds weak to his own ears. “It’s just…temporary. He needs to learn he can trust me. I’m willing to put up with anything to get him to trust me.”

She does not seems happy with that, at all. But, she does leave. It’s good enough.

***

So, here’s the thing.Steve has always been a bit…square. He doesn’t deviate from what’s right. If in doubt, he’s lived his life as quiet and polite. When he’d turned into an alpha he’d been more aggressive, he’d jerked off more, gotten hard at inappropriate times, but it wasn’t like he was banging omega girls or wanting to force anyone to submit to him. God knows Peggy wouldn’t have described him as a typical alpha, and most of his experiences were confined to the handful of occasions they’d had sex.

Society is more progressive now. In a lot of places, it would be okay if he liked male omegas. If he’d been an omega, he and Bucky could be together now without hesitation.

If he’d been an omega, and he’d seen Bucky in the middle of that intersection, gotten the mask off the Winter Soldier and seen Bucky’s perfect face, he would have told Nat and Sam ‘that’s my alpha’ without hesitation. He’d have been proud to be Bucky’s. 

But, being gay and having attraction for someone with the same secondary gender are very different things. One is tolerated. The other isn’t even something he’d ever really thought about. Neither had Bucky.

Steve had become a beta and perhaps he’d held a tiny flicker of a flame that somehow they might get drunk and wind up in bed together or something. But, it would have been anillicit encounter where they’d given in to temptation. And that assumes Bucky was tempted. He has no information on that. He doesn’t look back at their time together, after he’d presented and think ‘ah yes, that time we almost had sex’.

And when he’d become an alpha, there was no flicker of a dying flame of hope. It was just over. Ash.

While this is obviously a mistake and some kind of misunderstanding on Bucky’s part, Steve’s response to it is a problem. As much as he’d like to think Bucky was doing things to him that he didn’t want, it was obviously more complicated than that. Because, it’s pretty clear he does want it, quite a lot.

Fortunately, with the wide world of the internet at his fingertips he can do a search and see if he really is the only alpha in the world who’s getting off by being dominated by another alpha.

Turns out, he isn’t. It’s still taboo in certain parts of the country and it isn’t exactly common, but alpha men wanting to be dominated by other alpha men is a thing. A common thread seems to be the moment of submission, one alpha making the other one give in. In fact, there’s a hell of a lot of porn centering around it. It’s the alpha equivalent to the money shot.

He watches a video and then jerks off, comes unbelievably hard, but also feels ashamed. The video was twenty minutes and featured two alphas wrestling, snarling at each other and one finally pinning the other, biting him hard and forcing the submissive alpha to jerk off while the alpha’s teeth were clamped on his neck. A lot of the videos have a sexual component, but there’s other things the people watching these things get off on.

How the alpha gives in, when he does. How easy it is for him to give in. Some people like it if it’s fast, others want the fight. One alpha porn-star is known for how fast and deeply he submits. A video of him popping a knot for an alpha and then coming without a hand on him is mentioned more than a few times. Apparently, that’s pretty hot.

It quickly becomes apparent that there is more to alpha submission that just losing and being marked. Or bitten. There are degrees of submission, degrees of dominance. Penetration is a big deal. Literally, because alpha cocks are huge. Omega bodies, particularly females can accommodate their cocks.

Omega males have more elasticity and capacity for rapid dilation in order to accept penetration, but they still need lubricant. For alpha’s wanting to take another alpha’s cock, well, that took planning, preparation and patience. There were more horror stories than success stories it seemed. The very idea was so off putting Steve had to get up and walk away before doing more research.

All of the advice regarding alpha penetration advised stretching, dilation and plugs before attempting to take an alpha cock. The alpha should always come at least once before attempting to mount another alpha for fear that he’d lose control or be overcome with the need to claim and be unable to stop, even though he’s hurting his partner.

It’s terrifying. Steve can’t even imagine it. He needs Bucky to come back to himself before things go any further, because Bucky wouldn’t be able to control himself and Steve would have to fight him off.

He doesn’t want to fight Bucky and scare him away. He doesn’t want to risk hurting him. Or him leaving. But, there is no god damned way he’d let something like _that_ happen.

By the time a week has gone by, Steve is about to lose his damned mind. He has barely slept, he’s destroyed a lot of punching bags, run through a pair of brand new sneakers, and he’s lost five pounds because he’s been too nervous to eat.

He’s sleeping in pajama pants and his turtleneck, the AC cranked up to high, because he’s overheated and sweating all the fucking time, but he needs to have a conversation with Bucky, and see if he can get through to him. Make him understand that they’re friends and that’s all.

When Bucky finally shows up in the night, there is no click of the gun. There’s no sound at all, but he knows the moment Bucky is there. The bed dips, Bucky is over him and Steve tries to turn onto his stomach. A metal hand goes to his neck, keeping him face down.

“I want to see you,” Steve whispers.

“Why?”

“Don’t you want to see me?” Moments pass, and finally Bucky raises up, urges Steve to turn over with a hand on his waist. Steve moves slowly, not wanting to frighten him. He rests on his back, looks up at Bucky. His hands open and close and Bucky tracks the movement. He takes Steve’s hands and places them under his knees, palms open, pinning him there with his weight. Hisfingers squeeze Bucky’s knees, happy to touch any part of him.

It’s not painful and any discomfort he might have felt disappears when Bucky settles back onto him, ass on Steve’s pelvis. Are the blankets enough to hide how hard Steve’s getting?

“What is this?” Bucky asks, touching the neck of Steve’s shirt and frowning.

“We have to talk. What do you remember about us?” Bucky’s fingers drift up to Steve’s mouth, running along his lips. “Bucky, Bucky please, this is important.”

“You used to be smaller. Sick. _Mine_. You’re still mine.”

“I’m not yours like _that_. Two alphas can’t be together.” The look on Bucky’s face is almost comical. It’s complete and utter dismissal, as if what Steve has said isn’t just irrelevant but stupid. His hand slides down Steve’s neck, hooks into the fabric and pulls it down, exposing Steve’s throat and adam’s apple.

“Where do you go when you leave me?” Steve asks. Bucky watches him swallow.

“Why?”

“Because you belong with me. I need you,” he says, and the truth in that statement is a lot more impactful then he’d thought it was going to be. He blinks back the emotion, sees Bucky watching that too.

“You love me,” Bucky says. 

“I do. I told you that.”

“There is nothing in me to love, Steven Rogers,” he says, and he sounds like a damned robot.

“That’s not true. You are a good man. You always were. You would, you _did,_ die for me.”

Bucky’s head tilts to the side. “I did die for you,” he says, and he isn’t sure if Bucky is repeating itor agreeing with him “Did you die for me?”

Steve turns his head away, staring out the window, just needing a moment. Bucky touches his neck. “My bite. It’s all gone again.”

“Yeah, Buck. I died for you. Couldn’t live without you. Still can’t.”

“Because you are mine,” he says.

“Does that mean you’re mine, too?” Steve asks. His voice is shaking. If Bucky says that he’s Steve’s, then fine, whatever he wants is okay, so long as he gets to keep Bucky. They’ll find a way to work it out.

Bucky let’s go of Steve’s shirt, reaches up, moves his hair out of the way and bares his neck for Steve. His eyes are wide, a little scared, maybe. Steve does’t know what he’s going to do. His mouth is watering, his jaw is suddenly aching with the need to clamp down on Bucky’s skin, but he isn’t moving. Fear, acrid and unpleasant, suffuses Bucky’s scent.

“I won’t, Buck. It’s okay.” He wants to bite Bucky but not if it hurts him. It’s pretty clear it would be traumatic and something Bucky would endure for Steve. He doesn’t want that.

Bucky practically slumps in relief.

There’s movement in the doorway, a dart lands in Bucky’s thigh. Two more land in quick succession. Bucky pulls the first out, sways and Steve jerks his hands free and catches Bucky by the arms, keeping him from falling forward. His head lolls and Nat is there, yanking the darts out of his leg and then helping Steve lay him down on the bed. She’s putting cuffs on his hands and feet before Steve has gotten out of bed.

“You okay?” she asks, and he can see her looking at his neck.

“How did you know?”

She shrugs. “Been waiting. Knew he’d come back. Just like you did,” she says, gaze flicking to his turtleneck. “Did he hurt you?”

Steve blushes, pulls down his shirt so she can see. “No. It was fine.”

“We need to bring him in. Run some tests and see if we can help him. What if we can help him remember?”

He nods. Yeah. Of course. That’s what he wants more than anything. He doesn’t want to be unnatural and some kind of deviant. He doesn’t want to be bitten or…mounted. Doesn’t want Bucky to come on him and rub it into him gently.

Bucky will get help. He’ll be the man he was. An alpha who wouldn’t dream of offering his own neck for another alpha to bite. He’ll realize Steve is his closest friend in all the world, the exceptional alpha he doesn’t mind sharing space with. Maybe they’ll even live together again and Bucky will set them up on dates with omega girls.

Bucky will fuck them, rub his come into _their_ skin and he’ll come back reeking of sex and woman.He closes his eyes, needing to get himself together. Nat leaves the room and makes a call. Steve touches Bucky’s face, wonders if it’s the one and only time he will get to. He can hear Nat in the living room, knows she isn’t close enough to see him.

This is his last chance. Only chance. He presses his lips to Bucky’s, feels how warm and soft he is,the brush of his stubble against Steve’s skin. Home, he thinks. That’s exactly what home would have felt like. He presses his face against Bucky’s because he can’t help himself. This is it. This is the end. Bucky exhales and he breathes in, wanting the air that’s been inside him, that’s how greedy he is.

He pulls back, realizes Nat isn’t on the phone anymore. He doesn’t see her, but once they’ve got Bucky in the van, she pulls him into a hug and he’s pretty sure she has to know.

Nat stays in the back with Bucky, gives him a sedative every twenty minutes so he doesn’t wake up as they go to Tony’s. They park the car and Steve hauls Bucky out, over his shoulder, body heavy and limp. Tony is, for once, silent as Steve brings him in. Tony leads him to his workshop, where a makeshift medical studio has been set up. He sets Bucky down as gently as he can and Nat and Tony get him strapped in so he can’t escape.

“Why don’t you go get some food, you look awful,” Tony says.

“No. He might wake up.”

“No, he won’t. I need to map his brain. He’ll be out for a few hours. Promise.” Tony gives Bucky a shot and Bruce comes in, says hi and looms over Bucky’s unconscious body. Steve realizes he’s growling when Tony and Bruce look at him like he’s crazy.

“Come on, Steve. He’s not going anywhere and they need to work,” Nat says, pulling him out of the room.


	6. Chapter 6

They’ve kept Bucky unconscious for 72 hours, and the before and after scans of his brain are remarkable.He’s healed a lot in the time they kept him under, a mix of drugs acquired and even created by Tony and Bruce, having done a lot to speed up the healing. They’re hopeful he’ll wake up and be more himself.

Steve succumbs to sleep for a few hours, right after the 72 hour mark, and then stumbles into the shower and then to where they’re keeping Bucky. He’s nauseous and worried about what he might find. He can’t believe everything is going to be fine. He won’t let himself. He finds an empty bed.

“Jarvis, where are they?” Steve asks, halfway to panic.

“Steve? We’re over here,” Tony calls and pokes his head out from behind a screen. Steve finds Tony and Bruce, but still there is no Bucky.

“Where the fuck is he?”

“He’s getting some air. Had a shower and a shave and everything. Like a whole new man. Currently he should have a cappuccino and a croissant and—”

_“Where?” _Steve demands, and Bruce points down a hallway. Steve goes instantly, finds a door that leads to a large rooftop balcony and sees Bucky’s back as he leans negligently on the wall. Steve shoves the door open and Bucky turns, the sun on his face, his eyes blue and steady. Someone’s given him a dark t-shirt and track pants and he looks so good Steve has to force himself to keep eye contact. His smile is guarded, a blush rises on Bucky’s cheeks.

“Bucky, are you alright?”

“Yeah, pal. I’m alright. Feeling a bit embarrassed about this reunion, truth be told.”

“No. I don’t care,” Steve says, going closer. “God, you have no idea--” Bucky puts his cup down on the wide ledge, opens his arms and Steve is hugging him, hard and tight, buries his face in Bucky’s neck and breathes him in. “Do you remember me now?”

“I do. Not everything, but a lot.” Bucky pushes Steve gently back from him and Steve knows Bucky wants him to let go, but he just can’t. Bucky chuckles uncertainly, pats Steve on the shoulder awkwardly, and Steve finally pulls back.

“Steve, buddy. I really am sorry. I’m mortified. If you want to punch me or worse, I get it.”

“What? No,” Steve says, surprised he’s still worried about it. But, yeah, of course Bucky is. It was a big deal. A huge insult, weird and perverse. Bucky understands that. Why doesn’t Steve? “Don’t be embarrassed. It makes sense in a way. I’m just glad you came to me.”

“Ah, well,” Bucky says, wincing when Steve said ‘came’ and he shifts away, cheeks bright red and Steve has no choice but to give him space. “Look, good as new!” Tony says, coming out to the balcony.

“Guess so,” Bucky murmurs.

“Now, Steve, you’re the reasonable one. Tell him he needs to rest. A few days won’t make a difference.”

“What are you talking about?”

Bucky crosses his arms, mouth set in a hard line. “There are a few Hydra bolt holes I want to clear out now that I’ve got my memories back.”

“Which is great. And we want to help. But, ifyou could rest _first_ that would be even better,” Tony says, in that smug-asshole-but-trying-to-be-friendly voice.

Bucky smiles, “Yeah, you’re right. But twenty four hours is all I can manage,” he says.

Tony blinks, gestures wildly. “See this? Reason! I love it. You’re going to be a great addition, keep the Captain under control.” He hears Bucky take in a breath. Tony keeps talking, making plans, and finally tells Jarvis to get them to a spare room next to Steve’s. Steve follows Bucky, doesn’t speak until the door isclosed. 

“You’re not waiting, are you?”

“I don’t know them,” Bucky scoffs.

“You know me. I trust them. Help isn’t a bad thing.”

“I’m not doing it their way. I don’t know them and I’m not up to leading a team yet. I’m too used to being on my own.”

“Then tell me. I’ll deal with them and support you.”

A smile appears and vanishes. “Sorry, pal. No.”

“Fine,” Steve agrees, readily. Because he’d expected it,and while he wants the Avengers along, his key requirement is that he gets to go where Bucky goes.“When do we go?” Bucky looks around the room absently, peers out the window. “He’ll know if you try to sneak out. We can say we’re going to my place. That you’re more comfortable there.”

Bucky nods, claps him briefly on the shoulder and follows Steve out the door. They go back to Steve’s and get uniforms sorted out, weapons chosen and then there is nothing to do but wait until dark. The place Bucky wants to hit is only a few hours away and they have to wait until night anyway. “I should try to sleep,” Bucky says, finally. Conversation has not been happening.

“Yeah, me too.”

Bucky moves towards the couch.

“Buck, it’s fine. Take the bed, you’ll be more comfortable.”

“It’s your bed. You go be comfortable.”

“You were injured.”

“Technically, I’ve been asleep for three days.”

Steve blushes, forces the words out. “It’s big. We can lay next to each other. It’s not a problem. We did it for years.”

Bucky rubs a hand over his jaw. “I think it’s a fairly big deal. After what I did to you.”

“Fuck. You know what I want? I want you to let it go. For _me._ Please, just, I really don’t care.”

“Bullshit, _of course_ you care. You’re an alpha and not only did I force you to submit to me, it was…I don’t know what I was thinking!”

“You were confused! You didn’t know what we were to each other. That’s what you kept saying. You didn’t _know_.”

Bucky frowns, brows pulled together. “You told me we weren’t like that. I just…I didn’t believe you. I thought…some part of me was certain you wanted me as much as I wanted you. It probably doesn’t make it better, but you were everything. The only light when everything else was dark shadows and fear. I left you on that riverbank and I just couldn’t move on. It isn’t an excuse. Maybe it sounds like one.”

Steve says something inane. “I used to be a beta. But, that was late. Before that, you used to protect me like an omega. When everything was erased, you just didn’t remember the alpha part. I swear to you, it’s fine. It makes sense, and we can carry on with our lives and forget it.” Steve finds the whole thing distressing, enough so that Bucky’s nostrils flare in recognition of the bitterness suddenly entering Steve’s scent.

“Yeah, okay. Let’s rest,” he says, and sits on the bed, takes off his shoes and lies down. Steve does the same, turns out the light and lays down beside Bucky, both of them staring at the ceiling. It’s the afternoon and Steve’s curtains are pretty thin so it’s still fairly bright.

Several minutes go by and it’s awkward as hell. Bucky finally speaks. “I’m not sure what I would have done if the Widow hadn’t shown up,” he says, like he’s confessing to a priest. He sounds afraid.

“Buck, seriously.”

“You would have let me,” he whispers, and Steve turns to look at him, sees the tears on his face.

Steve pushes up on an elbow, leans over him, Bucky’s eyes are wide with fear and the glint of tears. “You’d never hurt me.”

“I would have. And how do we know I still won’t? I could just snap or get confused. If something happens…you won’t protect yourself from me. You’d have let me do that to you.”

“Do what? What would you have done?”

Bucky closes his eyes. “I don’t know. At least what I’d done before. God, what if I had tried to _have_ you? The idea of hurting you like that, debasing you like that. Steve, I’ve hurt a lot of people and done a lot of bad things, and I’ve compartmentalized a lot of shit, but I can’t hurt you. I wouldn’t risk doing something like that to you.”

Steve isn’t stupid. This is his way of saying goodbye. “You don’t get to leave me again.”

Bucky doesn’t even deny it.

“I need you. I love you. I don’t want to _live_ without you. We’re all we have, Bucky. Please, _please_ don’t let this be a big deal,” Steve begs.

“I’d kill any alpha that tried that with me. I wronged you. It’s unforgivable.”

“You don’t get to ignore the fact that you offered me your neck. You were scared, but you did.”

Bucky shoves his arm over his face. “I don’t think that makes it any better.”

“It means you weren’t trying to degrade me. You were trying to connect like equals. That’s how I felt. You wanted something big from me, but you were willing to meet me halfway.”

“You really wouldn’t stop me, would you?” Bucky asks, horrified. Steve looks down, has nothing he can say with conviction. “Isn’t that more reason to go, Steve? Where do we go from here? How do we pretend that hasn’t happened?”

“Nothing fucking happened!” Steve shouts. Bucky looks a little shocked. “No one….” He clears his throat. “No one touches me. You and ma were the only people who ever really touched me. And when I became an alpha, I lost you, too. They’ve got me… seeing therapists all the time, everyone is worried I’m going to —”

“What?” he asks, genuinely sounding like he has no idea. “Oh. Are you? Is this your threat? If I leave you, then you’ll kill yourself?”

He opens his mouth to deny it. But, the worst thing that can happen is Bucky leaves him. “I’m not going on without you,” he says. At least he’s honest.

Bucky doesn’t say anything for a little while. Bucky is disgusted by him, Bucky is trying to figure out how to leave him, Bucky is wondering why Steve is such a fuck up. It goes on and on, each thought worse than the last, as Steve waits for Bucky to come to some kind of decision.

“Come here,” Bucky says, quietly, in the dark.

Steve shifts closer so he’s pressed up against Bucky’s side, just like he used to do, so very long ago. He smells like an alpha. His scent has more texture, it’s deeper and richer. It’s familiar, too. He turns his head, getting close as he dares, breathing him in. “You smell like home,” Steve whispers.

Bucky presses his nose to the top of Steve’s head, breathes him in and his hand runs up and down Steve’s back. “Is this how it was before?” Bucky asks, hesitantly.

“How much do you not remember?”

“Things before Azzano are hazy.”

“Oh. Well, yeah. Kind of. Before I was a beta, anyway. I think…I think there were a few years where we thought it was always going to be like this. I was,” He has to clear his throat, “I was going to be your omega,” he says. Tears are dampening Bucky’s shirt. He’s not let himself think about that for a long fucking time. What was the point? Some things are so awful that one just has to put them away, not look at them or long for them, it’s just too painful. Steve not becoming an omega is the thing he doesn’t think about.

“Devastating,” Bucky whispers.

“Yeah, Buck. It really was.” Is. It hasn’t stopped being devastating. It’s just something Steve’s pretty good at forgetting.

“But, we were okay, when you became a beta? And we were okay when you became an alpha, right?”

“We always wanted to be together enough to make it work. When I was a beta and I should have been on my own after my ma passed, but you wouldn’t have it.”

“End of the line.”

“You remember that?” he asks, pleased.

“I remember you said it on the helicarrier. And, I remembered it like part of a dream or something.As if, maybe it wasn’t real. But, I was also _sure_ I remembered you were mine. Why would I have thought that?” he asks, quietly. “Doesn’t it mean that I had always wanted it? Even when you were an alpha?” Which is like an earthquake going on all around Steve, shoving everything he thought he was familiar with into a different landscape of mountains and valleys. Does Bucky know what a big confession that is?

“You wanted me as an omega. I think you were okay with me as a beta…. The alpha put an end to all of that.”

“Who was the woman?”

“What woman?” He knows which woman.

“Can’t believe you didn’t marry her. That you were denied that.”

He won’t say he denied himself a life with Peggy Carter. That she was the most beautiful and fierce and perfect omega and they’d had sex and she’d made him feel things… and when the moment came, of trying to survive and make a go of it, or just being somewhere cold and icy like where Bucky was, well. It hadn’t been a question at all.

He’d rather be dead with Bucky than live with Peggy.

Steve hasn’t had to spend a lot of time confronting his behavior during the war. What it meant that he was an alpha and he preferred another alpha to an omega. He’s not had to analyze the things he used to do without acknowledging to himself how fucked up they were.

Like the fact that he got hard from Bucky’s shirts and clothes. That he had sex with Peggy on those very rare laundry days because he could wear Bucky’s things and have Bucky all around him, making it all so good and easy. And then the clothes would get washed so Bucky never knew and Steve could pretend it wasn’t all that fucked up.

They’d get pulled from the front or various missions to do propaganda pictures or videos, have a chance to eat and get clean clothes and that was when he was willing to make time to fuck Peggy.

More than likely it wasn’t all that normal to fuck Peggy and think, this is how Bucky might do it. Or, this is how Bucky feels when he’s inside an omega. He has no idea if he could have made it work with Peggy, but he really doubts it. Getting it up and getting off during war, infrequently as it was, is different then settling in for the long haul. But, it didn’t matter because he crashed the Valkyrie and there’s been no temptation since then. 

But, now Bucky is back again, and he’s here with Steve, in his bed, close enough to scent, and it all comes flooding back. Steve’s whole life is a kaleidoscope clicking into perfect patterns.

“You can always change your mind, Steve. If you decide you don’t want me around anymore or you can’t forgive what I’ve done, I’ll understand.”

Steve doesn’t try to hide how annoyed that makes him. “Okay. I’ve heard you say it and I’ve listened. Now you need to promise me that you’ll never say that to me again. I want you here. That’s _it_. So, promise me you’ll be here. You’ll_ stay_.” He demands, hands digging into Bucky’s flesh, nose pressing into his shoulder desperately, like the neediest, most lovesick omega that a part of him had always expected to be.

“Okay, Stevie. I’ll be here,” Bucky says.

Steve doesn’t know if he believes him. “I can’t believe I might have a panic attack,” he says, trying to breathe evenly, and make himself calm down. Bucky said he won’t go. It’s okay.

“Weigh you down?” he asks, uncertain.

“Please,” he says, trying out the word and what it’s like to go a little farther with being needy and weak. The panic subsides a little, even as Bucky rolls over him. On top of him. It’s instinct that has him shifting his legs, Bucky cradled between them, his heavy weight pinning Steve down. Bucky grunts as his hips press to Steve’s.

“Stevie,” he says, half question, half warning. Bucky pushes up to give them space and Steve puts a hand on Bucky’s chest, as if he’s still worried about his breathing. Bucky lets him, is looking down at him with speculation and too much intelligence. Steve can’t stand it, and he pulls him down so he gets all his weight pressing into him and none of the knowing examination.

“Just a minute.”

“You still think you might panic?”

Steve doesn’t respond. He won’t lie to him.

“Okay. It’s alright,” Bucky says, pressing their foreheads together. They both know how wrong all of this is.

“Thank you,” Steve says, reassuring. “I can handle it,” he says. He’s an alpha but he can do this. Be pinned down by an alpha and not fight. Be vulnerable and soft. Not fight. _This_ is what he wants. Fuck what science and biology has made of him.

Bucky’s gaze boars into him from above. “Is this what you _want_, Steve?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Bucky stays like that for long minutes, so close and hot together. They both get hard and still no one moves. He breathes in Bucky’s air and Bucky breathes him in too, and it’s like he’s drugged with it. Bucky sighs into him, his hand strokes Steve’s side, gently petting him.

“Does this make you feel weaker?” Steve finally asks, almost dazed.

“No, Stevie. Does it make you feel weaker?”

“Yes.”

“And…. is that a… problem?”

“No,” he confesses.

“Okay.” Bucky presses a kiss to his forehead, carefully, and then moves off of him, holds him tighter and eventually they both fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's so interesting to hear what people think might be happening or worry might happen. Bucky being mad at Steve never occurred to me in a million years. I'm actually posting this now because that is not the kind of angsty story I want to tell and I'd hate for people to think that may happen. IDK, maybe it should have occurred to me and that would have made more sense, but it didn't. That's like the wrong kind of misery, you know? I can't imagine ever writing a story where Bucky blames Steve. Every story might have Steve blaming Steve, or Steve thinking Bucky should blame him, but in my head canon, Bucky loved Steve and he'd die for him any day of the week, without hesitation or regret. is that helpful?


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> really. Long. chapter.

When they get up in the evening, Natasha is there again. “Boys.”

“You have some truly awful security,” Bucky mutters a few minutes later, as he rifles through Steve’s fridge.

“Give me the location of some of the bases. We can take a few out. No reason you should get to have all the fun.”

Bucky closes the fridge door and takes a step towards Nat. “Do I know you?”

“I have one of those faces.”

Bucky snorts, “The hell you do. Pretty sure everyone who meets you remembers.”

“Well, except you, huh?”

Steve moves closer, arms crossed, not liking this at all. Bucky glances down at Nat’s hand, at her wrist, wanting to scent her. She holds out her arm and he picks it up in his, presses his nose to her pulse and breathes her in a few times. He lets her hand go, gently. Giver her hand a gentle squeeze. Friendly. Or something. Sympathetic?

“I did training for awhile. After Hydra sold me. Russia.”

“So you did,” she says, giving nothing away. She tilts her head to the side, exposing her neck. “You know I can kill you before you can do anything?” 

“Of course,” he says, like it’s just obvious. He presses his nose to the pulse point at her neck. He pulls back, frowning. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember more. Or much at all…. It was a long time ago,” he says, and he steps back. There’s a flush on his cheeks and he won’t meet Steve’s gaze. Bucky walks to Steve’s counter, grabs a piece of paper and a pen, writes down three addresses and hands them to her.

“Where will you go?” she asks.

“New Jersey.”

She smirks. “Better you than me.” She gives Steve a look, understanding, sympathetic, apologetic.And then she’s gone out the front door.

“What just happened?” Steve manages.

“I gave her a few addresses. She’ll research and take care of them. Who wants to go to Nevada, anyway?”

“Don’t pretend. What is she and how do you know?” Oh god. “What was she to you?” He wants to cry and beat the shit out of something.

Bucky turns to look at Steve, seems to be unsure just how upset he is or why. Steve takes a breath, tries to calm down and goes into the kitchen. His hand hovers above the fruit bowl for a moment and then drops. He turns back. He can’t do this casually and pretend it isn’t eating him up inside. Steve needs to see Bucky’s face for this explanation.

“She doesn’t look familiar. I don’t remember her face, but she smelled…safe. And she is not a safe person. She might have been an ally in the past, but that still doesn’t mean I’d think of her as _safe_. I don’t know what her secondary gender is. Although, I’m not sure I’d tell even if I did know. If she’s trying to keep it unknown, then that’s her secret.”

“Did you love her?” Steve asks, and his heart is breaking.

“I don’t know. I doubt it. Love requires agency, and I haven’t fucking had any for seventy years, now have I?” He takes a step closer to Steve, annoyed. It pings all of Steve’s alpha senses and he straightens up, feels the need to make a fist, just in case. He flexes his hands, not wanting to give in to the dominant urge. “What is she to you that you’re all jealous, Steve?”

“I’m not jealous. And, she’s a friend. A very good friend, who’s risked her life for mine and was willing to help me find you when no one else would.” He frowns. “Maybe that wasn’t for me, after all.”

His head drops down, a submissive gesture and Bucky moves into his space, wraps an arm around Steve’s low back, hand splayed, the other at his side. In the olden days, Bucky would have put that hand on the back of Steve’s neck. It was a comfort and he’d always liked it. Once he became a beta, Bucky never tried it again. Until the other day. He breathes out, shaky and a little scared. It’s hard to relax enough to really stay in this position and let it happen, but he wants the touch more than he wants to be an alpha. He’s got to try.

“Try it?” Steve whispers. Bucky shifts on his feet, the balance of his weight different, even though he doesn’t physically move away. His hand raises, settles on Steve’s shoulder, warm and enough to make him shiver. Bucky smells like an alpha, a little bit like a threat, and Steve’s heartbeat is picking up. “Don’t go too fast is all.”

“I can put my hand in your hair and slide down?”

A jerk of a nod and Steve twitches hard when Bucky’s hand is in his hair, hands grabbing at Bucky’s waist to steady himself. His hand slides down to Steve’s neck, his grip confident, easy to break, but enough to make him want to fight and shove away. “You’re alright. I won’t hurt you.”

“Don’t let go. I’m okay,” Steve says, but his voice is shaky and it just shouldn’t be this fucking hard to let Bucky touch him. He hates that it’s this difficult.

“How do I help you?” Bucky asks.

Steve has no idea. There isn’t anything Bucky can do beyond what he’s doing. He just has to stay patient and calm. Bucky’s thumb slides up and down the column of Steve’s neck, a gentle reassuring touch that gets easier and easier as the seconds tick by. Steve swallows back a sound when the tension starts to slip out of him, his hands relax on Bucky’s waist and he’s embarrassed to realize how hard his fingers were digging in.

“Sorry,” Steve says.

“It’s fine. Seemed fair.” Bucky keeps touching him, tries relaxing his grip and then going a little firmer. “I don’t know what she was to me and I don’t need to. It doesn’t matter, Steve.”

“Okay.”

Bucky eventually sighs. “I don’t think I could let you do this to me. I’m sorry.”

Grief goes through Steve, not that he can’t grip Bucky, maybe a bit that he can’t, but more because it’s pretty clear Bucky and him are wanting different things from each other. Steve is wanting really wrong things. “That’s fine. It’s not right, anyway,” Steve say.

Steve steps back and Bucky lets him go, backs up so he’s not invading Steve’s personal space. “Was it good or bad?” Bucky asks, curiously.

“Good. I think. Hard to get into at first, but a few more times and that instinctive response would probably fade a bit.”

“Oh. Okay,” Bucky says, as if it isn’t a big deal that Steve has basically said he wants Bucky to keep putting him in a submissive hold. “I won’t try it unless you ask.”

“Probably for the best. I’m going to go to the bathroom and then food.”

Bucky nods, goes back to the fridge and opens the door, looking for what all they’ll need. Steve leaves him there, goes into his bathroom and closes the door. He glances at himself in the mirror and then away. He looks pretty normal. He grips his cock and his balls, pressing hard and then undoes his pants. He closes his eyes and imagines the grip, imagines Bucky close and how good he’d smelled. He comes easily and copiously, gets himself cleaned up, even uses a bit of neutralizing spray so he doesn’t smell like alpha come and washes his hands.

The food is pretty good, too.

***

The four runner is a few years old. Steve had bought it right after the helicarrier, needing something for his hunt for Bucky. He’d been to Canada and Mexico, all over the US. They put their bags in the back and Bucky gets into the front seat. He shakes his head and looks at Steve.

“This car smells like the most miserable alpha ever.”

“Oh good,” Steve says. What the hell is he supposed to say?

Bucky opens the glove compartment which is filled with maps. He peers behind them, into the backseat, where there are more maps, all of them rubber banded together. He faces forward again and doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t make any mention of the fact that it’s clear the hunt for Bucky has been Steve’s life. His silence is good enough, frankly.

The radio comes on and Bucky turns it up a little, another conversational murder. Steve knows for a fact that neither of them have any idea what’s on the radio.

“Do you usually ride your motorcycle?” Bucky finally asks.

“Yeah, I guess I do. Don’t draw any conclusions based upon this car.”

“I’m not drawing conclusions based _solely_ on the car.” Bucky says.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay,” Bucky says, willing to pretend it’s that easy. The drive is silent after that.

They scout the area and then go to a motel to get ready. “We don’t need two rooms,” Steve says, as he pulls in.

“Feeling cheap or worried I’ll run?” Bucky asks.

“Both?”

Bucky nods and goes into the reception area and comes back out, frowning. “They’ve got a room and the price is right, but it’s a king.”

“Okay,” Steve says, unwilling to indicate this is anything he’d be concerned about. At all. “If you have a problem with it, then let’s go somewhere else, but I don’t care.”

“I don’t have a _big_ problem with it. But, it’s worth mentioning. It’s not a big deal if you don’t want to share a bed. It would make more sense if you didn’t.”

“We may not even use the bed.”

Bucky shrugs and goes back to the office, comes back out with a key and they go to a room on the end, ground floor. If all goes well, they’ll have a place to sleep. If all goes to shit, they’ll have a place to get patched up.

It’s awkward from the moment they get to the base.

Steve wants to say it’s just like the war, but it isn’t. There’s no defacto leadership role Steve is given. The Winter Soldier had worked alone and that’s what Bucky defaults back to. And Steve has been leading the Avengers for long enough now that it takes him a bit to really get with the program and not try to dash in front of Bucky.

The base is empty as they go in. Steve once again tries to take the lead and Bucky puts a hand in front of him to stop him. Steve looks down at his hand, an acknowledgment that he’s seen it and Bucky pushes him into a corridor, voice lowered. “You’ve never even been here before. Are you doing this because you can’t rein it in or because you’re protecting me?”

“I don’t know. Does it matter?”

Bucky shrugs. “One we can work with and one we can’t.”

Steve swallows. “I can’t let anything happen to you.”

Bucky nods. “Then I guess you’re leading.”

Is it that easy for Bucky? Apparently, it is. He follows Steve, guarding his six like the old days and they find what they want, download any files they’re interested in, and set the explosives. It looks like they’re home free when some jackass fires a shot and manages to hit Bucky in the side as they are making their way out again. “Where was this asshole? In the can?” Steve demands.

“Step out, I’ll drop,” Bucky says, voice low and calm. Steve nods, Bucky drops to one knee, waiting. Steve steps out with his shield protecting him and Bucky leans out and shoots the guy. Just like the good old days. Steve gets him to his feet, although Bucky shrugs him off and they get out of there, back into the car and Steve starts driving.

“How bad is it?” Steve asks, trying to stay calm.

“Fine. Go to the room. Think it just grazed me. And I had kevlar on. You smell like miserable alpha again. I’m okay. I swear.”

Steve drives. Has to refocus because his hands are unsteady and he can smell Bucky’s blood and it makes his own anxiety ratchet up. Bucky rolls down his window and cold, clean air floods into the space. “I may have to get you one of those Christmas tree air fresheners,” Bucky mutters, head resting back against the seat.

Minutes pass. “It isn’t your fault, Steve. It was basically abandoned. One security guard—”

“There was one fucking guy and he shot you. Stop bullshitting me and trying to make me feel better.” They get into the motel room and Steve drops their stuff, is instantly in Bucky’s space, looking for blood and taking off his vest. There’s a bullet embedded in the material near Bucky’s spine and a bruise is already there. That means there were two. How had he not fucking realized that asshole got Bucky twice? The one at his side just slipped under the waist where the vest ended. He’s unbuttoning Bucky’s pants, barely aware of what he’s doing. Bucky is very still while Steve freaks out.

He bares Bucky’s hip, sees blood but it’s healing. It’s healing. “See? I’m fine. It grazed me.”

“I’ll clean it up,” Steve says, and his voice is shaky. He goes to the table and gets the first aid kit. Bucky sits down on the bed and lets out a heavy sigh.

“Could have gone a hell of a lot worse.”

“Ah, there’s that false optimism I’ve always loved,” Steve says, feeling weirdly numb. He squats down and dabs at the cut, wipes the area around it. It’s almost healed. Bucky just needs a shower and he’ll be fine. Which isn’t fair. Steve had thought he’d get to touch him and reassure himself that Bucky was okay. At a bare minimum, he needs that.

He doesn’t get that and he won’t. He stands up and forces himself to turn, to throw the bloody wipes away and then wash his hands. Maybe Bucky would grip him again. Would that be enough to settle down this triggered fear that Bucky will die on him? That it will be his fault?

Bucky gets off the bed and comes towards the bathroom, watches while Steve washes his hands and tries to act like a normal person. Steve gets out of the way, fiddles with things and gets the bed cleared so Bucky can take his shower in the small space. Bucky goes in with boxers and nothing else.

As soon as the door closes, Steve sits on the bed. He’s shaking. He picks up the vest and Bucky’s shirt, holds them to his face, and sits there until the shower turns off. At least his eyes are dry.

When the door finally opens, Bucky has a towel wrapped around his waist. Steve is still in his tac suit because he’s basically just acted like a pathetic dog waiting for its owner. He’s got the bloody vest in his hands. He’d meant to put it down before Bucky came out.

“Steve. Why don’t you tell me what you would like? What would make you feel better? If I can do it, then I will.”

“I want to touch you and reassure myself you’re okay. I can see it, but I don’t feel it. If I touch you, then I’ll know.” Steve says it all quickly. He’s done nothing but think about it for the last fifteen minutes. What he wants and if there was some way to ask. But Bucky knew. Took one look at Steve miserably sitting on the bed with Bucky’s bloody vest clutched to him and he’d wanted to help Steve.

Even without a lot of his memories of Steve, he tries to take care of him. Well, shit, he might start crying now.

“Okay,” Bucky says, and he crosses his arms. A little defensive, but since he’s letting another alpha come up to him, get close and touch him, it’s only to be expected. Steve tries to just look, to let his fingertips touch the skin around the area, but it isn’t enough. He presses his palm flat to the skin and that helps a bit. He nods. That’s good. He’ll be fine now.

There were a few times, during the war, where he’d gone to his knees to check. And once or twice he’d gotten Bucky’s hand on his hair for a brief moment, this echo of the past and how they used to behave. Desperation and loss seemed to make it okay for brief moments. “What about your back? If I go to my knees, will you show me your back?”

“Think my back is healed. I got an okay look in the mirror before I came out,” he says, but Steve’s cheeks are hot and he needs this. This is his excuse to get down on the ground and see that hip wound up close, and he’s going to fucking take it. He goes down to his knees and looks up at Bucky. Bucky licks his lips and turns, letting Steve see his back.

“Could I? Just a light touch?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” Bucky says, roughly, and Steve lifts both hands, forces himself to put one down and ever so gently touch the area. There’s a bruise that’s already turning lighter around the edges, but other than that he’s good. “Thank god,” Steve whispers, shakily.

Bucky hesitates. “I’ll turn, if you want, Steve. I’m sure you want to inspect the bruise too.”

“Yeah, I do,” he manages, his voice gravel-like. Bucky turns half-way and his hip is in front of Steve’s face. “Could I? Touch you? Please?” he asks.

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

Steve reaches out again, presses fingers to the area. His mouth is watering and he wants to breathe him in. He leans forward without meaning to.

“Can I touch your hair?” Bucky asks.

“Yes,” Steve says, without hesitation.

Bucky touches the back of Steve’s head, runs through his hair. “Go on. If you need to.”

He’s distantly aware that Bucky is being just as careful as Steve is. Trying to be respectful and not rile up each other’s instincts. He’d give them all up if he could. They’d thought he was going to be an omega.

He was supposed to be Bucky’s omega. Even as a beta, they might have made something work if Bucky’d wanted to. Why on earth Bucky would have wanted to resign himself to a beta instead of an omega who smelled good and acted sweet and was built to turn an alpha on, Steve doesn’t know, but his deepest fantasy had been that somehow they’d find a way to make it work even though Steve was a beta. Hell, he’d been willing to share Bucky with an omega if he’d had to.

And then he’d met Peggy, who was an omega and he thought maybe, somehow, when the war was done that maybe Peggy would be his omega and Bucky’s too. It’d been a weird and perverse fantasy that made him feel a little sick, but at least Bucky would be close. He’d get part of him.

Sometimes, he’d thought about whether or not he’d confess his feelings to her before he asked her to go on that dance. It just seemed dishonest to go out with someone when he was terminally in love with someone else. A quick hook up was one thing, if he and Peggy were going to be serious, he doesn’t know if he would have said. Could have.

But, that was all just idle thoughts and daydreams to stay sane in the long, endless hours where they waited for anything to happen.

No one else had ever stood a chance of getting Steve’s heart because it had always belonged to Bucky, whether he wanted it to or not. Every fantasy and half dream he’d had and let die is now back again. He isn’t Bucky’s omega or even his beta, he’s an alpha but alphas can submit to other alphas. Steve can do it. He can do anything if it requires force of will. How is this any different than forcing himself to get back up?

He presses his forehead to Bucky’s hip, wanting to put his lips there and suck his skin. He wants to breathe him in and then kiss him and repeat it over and over again, all over his body. He’d worship him if he could. He wants to smell Bucky’s arousal and know how that would affect his scent. He’s down on his knees for fuck’s sake.

“God, look at you down there,” Bucky says, and he sounds just as desperate as Steve feels. He presses his lips to Bucky’s hip, closes his eyes and turns up his face, let’s Bucky see his lips and his mouth opening to breathe against him, flicks his tongue against the smooth skin. Hands clench in his hair and then slide down to the back of his neck, gripping him tight.

Steve startles badly, hands gripping the towel blindly as he tries to stay calm and not get really fucking defensive about Bucky touching him like that. “Shit. I’m sorry,” Bucky says, and he lifts his hands away.

“No, stay. I’m okay. I don’t want it to bother me,” he says, heart pounding with the need to do something. Like get up and punch the alpha who just assaulted him. _Fuck_. 

“Well, of course you don’t _want_ it to. But, this isn’t want, it’s biology. Instinct.”

“What good has my biology ever done me?” Steve demands, and blinks back tears. “Look at the world now. We can be gay now, Buck. It doesn’t matter. That part is easy. And, I should have been an omega, but I wasn’t. I couldn’t even stay a beta. What the fuck good does it do me to be an alpha?” Steve shoves to his feet, paces away and goes to the bathroom to take a shower.

He needs to be alone for a little bit. He doesn’t want to hear any excuses or reasons. He will literally punch a wall if Bucky tells him some bullshit reason why he wouldn’t be with Steve. Or, even worse, how they’ll be okay and at least they can be friends.

Hell, maybe Bucky will go back with Natasha or find some beautiful omega who will be overjoyed to present for him and can take his giant cock and he can work his knot inside her. Bucky will be able to grab some girl’s hair and she’ll shiver and get _wet_.

Steve doesn’t even think about jerking off. He doesn’t want to, he isn’t hard and he doesn’t care if it might make sleeping next to Bucky difficult. At this point, he’s so pissed off and miserable he doesn’t even think he will get hard laying next to him.

When he’s done with his shower, he goes out to find Bucky wearing jeans. They’re zipped up, but the button is undone and he isn’t wearing a shirt, and a stab of desire hits Steve and forces him to look away.

“I ordered food. Chinese. I know you didn’t get hurt, but can I check you over, too?”

He laughs, miserably. “Why? What’s the point?”

“Would you like it if I did?” Bucky asks, softly.

He manages a jerky nod. Bucky holds out a hand, inviting Steve to move to him. Steve goes and he feels his chest and neck getting warm, all of it spreading upwards until he knows he’s blushing. “Can I touch you?” Bucky asks.

“Yes,” Steve answers, looking down. He wants to look up, look Bucky in the eye, but he won’t. He vows to look down, to not raise his gaze even though it makes him a little twitchy. His muscles tense. Hands on his shoulders and Steve’s shoulders hunch up and then he forces them to lower.

“Good,” Bucky says, and his hands glide down Steve’s arms to the tips of his fingers. He presses a palm to Steve’s stomach, asks him to turn and Steve makes himself move, gets himself to turn and give Bucky his back, even though Bucky is so close and his dominance is really high. He can smell the hint of arousal and he isn’t sure why Bucky is responding to him, but he wants that more than he wants to be safe so he puts his hands up, lets his arms slide up along the wall until they touch. Making himself defenseless.

“What if I… can I get closer to you?” Bucky asks, voice a little rumbly.

“I’ll be okay. It might take me a moment to— _fuck_, settle, but I can do it,” he gasps as Bucky’s chest brushes his back. Bucky’s hands slide up his arms, to his wrists and lift one hand, placing it over the other in an X. His touch is loose but it makes Steve restless. He should shove his elbow back into Bucky to get him off of him, snarl in warning. He needs space.

This is a lot to ask of him. Steve’s hard. So fucking hard that his knot is beginning to pop. Steve can count on one hand the number of times that’s happened. Fuck, it hurts. Especially if he can’t get it into an omega and get it to go down. Or even into his right hand. A lot of alphas have sleeves for that, to get all of it encompassed, in case they pop and just have to jerk off, but Steve never has. It just hasn’t been an issue for him.

Now he’s beginning to regret that. He looks down his body, sees the tenting under his towel and is glad he’s got his boxer briefs on at least. He shifts his legs open a little, needing more room for his balls and his knot. Unless he’s getting pressure to come, Steve doesn’t usually like anything touching him when he’s aroused, not even his clothes.

“I’m sorry, Steve. I can’t even get down on my knees. I want to do that for you and I fucking can’t,” he says, and Bucky’s voice breaks.

“That’s okay.” It’s heartbreaking that Bucky can’t submit, at all to him, but Bucky being sad about it is a hell of a lot worse. He doesn’t ever want Bucky to be sad or hurt again.

“No, it isn’t. I just want you to know. We were both a lot more easy going before the serum. And, before everything else, but I don’t know if I can submit at all. It shouldn’t be so one-sided. Jesus, I’ve got your arms pinned and… sorry.” Now Bucky smells like miserable alpha. After all that he’s been through, it’s not a surprise he has so much trauma associated with forced submission. If Bucky can’t give in at all and he needs a hell of a lot of submission from Steve to get off, then it can’t work.

Which is enough to make Steve cry. He keeps it silent. And his knot is killing him now, his dick is so hard that he can’t turn around without giving it away, but he can’t even have the man he wants. Bucky’s head rests against Steve’s back.

“Maybe… what if you laid down on your stomach, I could check you below the waist? And then we could try having you turn over and I can do the front, too?” Lips press against Steve’s shoulder. “I want it, too, if that means anything, I’m just not sure how to get there.”

He forces himself to think. “I can go to the bed if you actually want me to. But, I don’t want you to do it because you pity me. I couldn’t bear that.”

“Steve,” he breathes, kissing his cheek. “I want you to. Of _course_ I do. If you’d been an omega, I would have claimed you and we both know it. It wouldn’t have mattered if you were a man or that it was illegal…. There are things I probably won’t ever remember but I know that you becoming an alpha was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me. Crueler than becoming the Winter Soldier, or being frozen, or any of that crap. We were supposed to belong to each other. I know that’s a really selfish thing to say.”

It’s the conversation they never had. After Azzano, there was no point. Peggy was there, Bucky was distant and war kept them busy. They both tried to move on. With very little success, apparently.

“I’ll go to the bed,” Steve says, and Bucky backs up. Steve drops his arms and he goes to the bed, puts a knee on it, and after a long moment he bends over, on all fours to get higher up the bed. His courage fails him and he goes down to his stomach, buries his head in his arms. Omegas liked presenting. Steve isn’t an omega. It’s stressful and weird and he doesn’t like it at all. This is impossible.

“I want the towel off.”

Steve thinks about reaching for it. “You can take it off of me. If you want. Go slow?”

Bucky gets on the bed and Steve can feel him behind him. “Lift your hips, baby,” Bucky says, and it’s so soft and sweet, so gently commanding that it breaks Steve’s heart that he can’t have it. He raises his hips up, and the towel gets tugged until it comes undone and off of him.

The fabric of his boxers scrapes the head of his cock and his knot, and Steve thrusts down hard into the mattress, shoves a hand under himself, squeezing hard on his knot through his underwear. Fuck, it’s painful.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asks.

“I popped my knot and it hurts. Shit,” He doesn’t do a good job of keeping the worry out of his voice. 

“Do you want to stop?”

“No.” There’s a big silent space where the question of ‘what’s the problem?’ isn’t being asked. “I don’t have anything,” Steve says, hesitantly. “It’s not really happened much before.” Steve isn’t completely ignorant. Of course it’s possible to get it down by jerking off. He’ll need slick and two hands and it will chafe quite a bit by the end, but it’s possible to come without an omega or a sleeve.

“Well, it used to happen to me all the fucking time when we were growing up and then when we moved in together. It’s not happened since I got captured, I don’t think. I kind of wonder if they did something to me. If it’s impossible now.”

“You get hard,” Steve says. He felt it.

“Yeah. Everything else is fine, but um, I just don’t have the knot.”

It shouldn’t make Steve feel sad but it does. Steve hates having a knot, but maybe if he’d grown up with it then he wouldn’t mind. This just sounds like something else Bucky lost.

“But, I sure bet I could take care of yours easily enough. If you’ll let me.”

“I’ll let you.” The lust that suddenly comes off of Bucky is enough to wash away any hesitation.

“Take off your underwear, I’ll get slick and a towel.”

He’s shaking as he does it. He wants to kiss Bucky while this happens, roll him to the bed and fuck against him, just rut and rut until he comes. Maybe between his thighs, have him clench tight and Steve could thrust hard and fast. Over and over again until he came, just flooded Bucky’s thighs and his taint with come.

Steve forces the thoughts away. He’ll never get that with Bucky. No reason to even dwell on it. He tosses his underwear aside and looks at his cock, so red and hard. It’s massive. He can see it throbbing. His balls are giant too and he spreads his legs to give everything room. His knot is bruised looking, dark and hot to the touch where it bulges at the base of his shaft. It’s hotter than the shaft or the head. He puts his hand on his balls, feels them, gently cupping and supporting. Sometimes they get heavy. And when he’s on his back, it’s more noticeable.

He touches his knot, carefully putting a hand around it and squeezing gently. The more he does it, the darker the head of his cock gets. He isn’t leaking, the knot blocking any come from seeping out. That’s part of the reason it hurts. Usually, he drips and gets damp spots in his underwear if he’s hard. The knot just complicates everything, blocking him up.

Bucky comes back into the room and stops at the sight of him. “Fucking hell. You look gorgeous. And the serum worked all over I see,” he says, gaze taking in Steve’s big cock and balls, the bulge of his knot. “Yeah, that looks like it hurts.” Bucky touches Steve’s hip and he raises up so he can put the towel under him. He’s got another one next to him. “I think you’ll be making enough of a mess that this might be a good idea.” Bucky has a tin in hand. “Lucky you, using my omega slick before I do. Think it’s come a long way. Smells good,” he says, and he adjusts himself in his underwear.

“What did it used to smell like?”

“Omega and tallow. It was disgusting. Poor man’s slick.”

Bucky is looming over him. “Can you sit down?” Steve asks, because it’s kind of annoying to have him there so high above him.

“Yeah, sorry,” he says, and he sits on the bed. “The angle would be better if I was between your legs, but that’d really make you feel vulnerable and pissed off.” An image of what that would be like, another thing he can’t have, flashes behind his eyes. He turns his head away. Best not to think about it.

“Stevie.” Steve turns to look at him. Bucky wipes a tear off Steve’s cheeks. “Oh, sweetheart. Let’s see what we got, okay?”

He manages a nod. Bucky thinks he’s upset because it hurts. Why tell him that he’s sad because he wants things he can’t have? “Do you want me to tell you how to do it or can I touch you?”

“Will you?” he asks, and he wants to add a caveat of ‘don’t do it if you don’t want to’ but god he wants Bucky’s hand on him.

“I want to. Can you open your leg to the side?”

He lets one leg fall open so Bucky can touch him. Bucky puts the slick on Steve’s knot and it makes his skin tingle. He huffs out a breath, his hips roll upwards. “There you go, baby,” he says, and he wraps a hand around Steve’s cock, sweeps his thumb along the knot and Steve groans and fucks upwards, groaning desperately.

“Sweetheart, you look so fucking hot, you have no idea. Maybe you should be glad you’re not an omega, Stevie. I’d leave you like this, just watch you all worked up and desperate, keep you needy and wanting.”

That cuts through the lust. “Why?” he asks, because that sounds mean.

“I don’t know. I guess so I could have you all the time. Make sure you wanted me half as much as I wanted you,” he says, cheeks going pink

“I would want you,” he says, sadly.

“I don’t know, Steve. Desire is weird. I see you like this and that’s just what I thought. I’m sorry I said it.”

“No, it’s not bad that you said it. I want to know. God, you have to know that I’ve wanted you and thought about this. Even when I shouldn’t have. If we’re not actually sexually compatible maybe that’s for the best. Maybe I should know.”

“So, should I tell you then? All the horrible things you make me want and see if it cures you of wanting me?” It should be sexy. Hearing all the things Bucky wants to do to him. It’s actually just depressing.

“I’m not sure. I don’t know.” He puts a hand over Bucky’s, tries to get him to start jacking him off at the knot.

“Steve, stop. You don’t do it there. Not directly on. You can go under the knot or press down the shaft until you bump the knot but you don’t just focus in the middle.”

“Maybe I do. Maybe that’s what I like,” he whispers.

“Show me then. Try it,” Bucky orders and he takes his hand away. Steve is so fucking turned on that he slaps both hands on his cock, needing them both to get a really good grip on everything, needing sensation and to come and to make the ache in his knot settle. He jerks from the knot, yanking on it. It’s intense and so fucking good. His legs open wider and he fucks up and into his grip, panting, staring at Bucky who’s watching him intently.

“It takes a while, Stevie. Pace yourself,” he brushes a finger under Steve’s lip, along the bottom. He opens the pot of slick and scoops out some more, gets Steve to stop long enough to put it in his slippery palm. Steve rubs his hands together, getting it all melted and warm. He raises a hand to his face, smelling it. His balls throb deep inside when he gets that hint of omega. He puts his hands back on his cock, works his knot.

A few minutes go by and Bucky is looking from Steve’s cock to his face. “The head’s all red and flushed. But, you’re not leaking at all, sweetheart. Can I touch your balls?”

He manages a stuttered yeah and Bucky puts a hand on his balls, rubs fingers on Steve’s taint and that’s so fucking good that he stops jerking and just squeezes hard, “God, I’ve got to, _need_ to come. Want to come _now_,” he begs, and looks at Bucky.

And now there’s something dark in Bucky’s eyes, something alpha and dominant. He looks at Steve’s neck like he’s remembering biting him. “Is that what you want, Steve? Can I help you get all that come out, baby?”

Bucky has one hand on his own cock, feeling himself up through his clothes and the other is on Steve’s balls and his taint. He slips his finger lower, just one, gentle and easy, presses lightly against Steve’s hole. “Bucky, that’s not… you need slick or something.”

Bucky blinks, looks at his fingerand then lifts his hand away. “Fuck. Sorry. Your knot’s popped so I doubt I could get a finger into you, anyway. You’re too swollen. Not that I would try. Obviously. But, sorry. Forgot for a minute.”

“That I was an alpha who doesn’t get fingered or fucked?”

He shrugs. Embarrassed.

“Bucky, it’s fine. Hell, it’s another thing to know, right? Of why we wouldn’t work? What else do you want?” It’s killing him to ask. 

“I guess so,” Bucky says, not sounding convinced. “So, what do I want from you? Hands on your chest?”

“No,” Steve argues. He’s not going to play with his chest like he’s a girl or something. Bucky pouts for a flash of a second and then it’s gone. “Hands into the bedding then.”

He puts loose fists there, sees Bucky note the gesture, kind of obeying his orders, but not really and then it doesn’t matter because Bucky’s got a hand on Steve’s cock and he’s rubbing down to the knot, bumping it gently on each downward stroke and it’s fucking unbelievable. His mouth opens and his hips rock up to meet the touch, fucking into Bucky’s grip. “Not over the knot, Steve. Stop when you get there.”

“Fuck, why? That’s where it aches,” he gasps. Bucky chuckles at him, gets Steve’s cock in two hands and drops one down under the knot, so little area to work with. He’s swollen there, congested with come and burning hot to the touch.

“Gentle! God, it hurts,” he whimpers, hands fisting so hard in the bedding.

“Hush, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” Steve starts to tremble and shake, fucks up and hard through the ring of Bucky’s fingers, crying out at just how much that hurts. “Easy. Stay still.” Steve’s frantic with the need to come. How can he hold still? He needs to fuck and rut and come, he needs to unload in long, heavy pulses, get Bucky soaked in it.

“Please, can I come on you? Please. God, I want to mark you up so bad. Please. _Please_.”

Bucky pauses, licks his lips, brow furrowed as he thinks. Steve slumps to the bed. He grabs onto Bucky’s arm, tries to get him moving again.

“You can mark me up, but then I’m going to come on you, on your face, and feed all of it to you. That’s the deal, if you want it.”

“Do it. Anything. I just need to see it on you.”

“Stevie, look at me.” Bucky orders, wanting to make sure Steve understands. “When you’re finished, I’m going to be over you, thighs on either side of your shoulders and you’re going to lay there and let me come on your face and in your mouth and then you’ll suck my fingers clean as I wipe it all up off of both of us. _That’s_ the deal, if you want to come on me.”

Steve closes his eyes, tries to think about it. God, that’s so degrading and submissive. It’s what alphas do to omegas. “Are you trying to get me to say no or is that what you want?”

“I want it. Do you want to know what you’re getting into?”

“What do you mean?”

Bucky wipes his hands on the towel, reaches into his pants, stands up so he’s looming over Steve, even a thigh on the bed. He’s stroking himself and staring at Steve. His hand comes out, slick and wet. He’s waiting for Steve to decide. Steve nods sharply and Bucky presses his finger into Steve’s mouth. It’s alpha come, heavy and bitter and it makes him want to gag. That’s his first, visceral reaction.

“That doesn’t put me off, Steve. You not wanting it. I’ll feed it to you anyway. I love you giving in, Steve. Letting me do this to you. You have no idea how fucking hard it makes me.”

“Well, I’ve got some idea,” he says aroused and frustrated.

Bucky’s brows pull together as he thinks about that. “You don’t, actually. You want me _despite_ the way we have to do it. I want you _and_ I want you submitting to me. The more difficult it is for you, hell, I might like that even more.” Bucky touches his own chest and then his stomach, smiles at Steve tracking every move. Like he’s luring Steve into a trap, urging him to imagine coming on Bucky. “Well? You want to come on me, baby?”

“Yeah, I do,” he says, voice a low growl. His cock throbs and he gets a hand back on his knot, squeezing. He shudders. Bucky might be right, though. The most direct way feels best, but he’s not sure he could come from that. Not easily anyway.

“Get up on your knees, come to the edge of the bed,” Bucky orders. It rankles and he can’t help but take a moment, the barest resistance to his command. Bucky smirks at him. “Pretty sure you’re just punishing yourself when your dick is that needy.”

He blushes, is suddenly annoyed at just how much control and power Bucky has over this. He’s an alpha, too. He gets close and Bucky is taller than him at this angle. If they stood on the ground or Bucky was on the bed too, Steve would get that height advantage. “Maybe you should lay down,” Steve says, challengingly. “I want it all over you.”

“No. We can stop now, if you want. I can make you come and you can use a condom, but if you want to mark me up this is what I need. How we do it. I’m sorry.” And he is. Steve can see it on his face, even the way his breath hitches, that he wishes he could be more accommodating. “Could we kiss? Would you like that?” Bucky asks, uncertainty. Trying to give Steve something.

“Yes, I would like that,” he says, and he leans forward, presses gentle kisses to Bucky’s collarbone and chest. Bucky’s hand lands on Steve’s neck, holding him still. “Fuck, oh god, Bucky. Bucky, make me come. _Fuck_.”

Bucky growls low and shoves down his own pants. His cock is massive, as big as Steve’s, more than he’d ever thought it might be and the scent of his arousal hits Steve and he collapses back to his heels for a moment, stunned and overwhelmed.

He’s repulsed and aroused, he wants it and his fingers twitch to touch him. His knot swells further, spasming like a horrible cramp, he’s so physically responsive to Bucky. “Steve, you can come on my cock if you want,” he says, and then he lets go of Steve’s neck, opens the tin of slick again and gets more on Steve’s knot. Steve sits back up again, hands on Bucky’s shoulders, sliding around his neck as Bucky strokes him in a twisting motion down to the knot.

“Yeah, hold on, sweetheart. I’ve got you. You’re okay, Stevie. So good. Look at you. Beautiful. So fucking beautiful,” he says, and he’s kissing Steve hard and deep, fucking his mouth possessively and wet. Steve shakes, feels his balls heave and he shakes and holds tighter. “Yeah, There you go. Relax so it can go.”

Steve grunts, on that pinnacle, his balls already throbbing as they try to release. Nothing comes out, his knot too swollen, blocking the passage. “Relax, Stevie. Relax so it can come out.”

“I can’t. I don’t know how. Help me. Help, I just…” Panic sets in and he looks down, sees the swollen state of his balls, the horrible pain he now feels weighing him down, how his knot bulges and it scares him. It’s terrifying. “Bucky, I can’t.” He gasps.

Bucky moves, puts teeth to Steve’s neck, bites him hard and Steve relaxes in Bucky’s hold, gets caught and propped up by one strong arm. His cock explodes and it steals his breath, consumes him. Bucky is still biting him, hand on Steve’s shaft, milking him through it as Steve comes, heavy and so hot between them.

Steve makes a sound, sweet and fucked out, the sort of sound omegas make in porn and Bucky shoves Steve back to the bed, prowls up his weak body. Bucky has come on his chin, on his cheek and his chest. It’s on his abs and his cock. It’s everywhere. A shiver of pride goes through Steve to see how much of a mess he made on the man he loves.

Bucky jerks himself off with practiced ease, no knot to deal with, which makes a pang of something unpleasant go through Steve. Bucky didn’t get as worked up as him, Steve thinks. Doesn’t want him enough to pop a knot. He tries to shove the thought aside, knows damned well it’s not Bucky’s choice but what Hydra did. Bucky stops, a huge drop of come at the tip of his shaft. “Lick it off of me,” he orders.

The desire to say no is far away, buried under the pain stinging in his neck. He licks, lets the flavor sit in his mouth, watches, pleased when Bucky grunts and goes back to fisting himself. It doesn’t take all that long before his breathing changes and his hand speeds up.

The smell of alpha is all around him. He has an urge to raise his head and bury his face in the crease of Bucky’s thigh, under his balls and breathe him in. It both arouses him and makes him sick, and his dick spills a little more on his stomach. Steve touches his own cock, gently, almost scared of getting hard again because that last time had been too much. Too intense with the horrible pain of his knot.

The swelling is going down, but he’s overly sensitive and he stops touching himself and focuses on Bucky who’s about to come. Bucky leans back and comes, spraying all over his own chest and in rivulets down his stomach. As the flow slows he leans forward, over Steve, hand above his head on the bed as he comes steadily on Steve’s face and his closed eyes. “Open your mouth,” he growls and Steve does. Hot and bitter lands on his tongue and he swallows and almost gags. Bucky eventually finishes coming with a long moan. Steve feels Bucky wipe the head against his lips and his tongue darts out, tasting him. Swallowing. It’s awful.

“I needed that, Steve. You were incredible, baby.” Fingers brush his eyes and then press to his lips. Steve hesitates before opening his mouth, had hoped Bucky would change his mind. That once the need was sated, he wouldn’t want Steve to do something so base and submissive.

“Open up, sweetheart. You earned this.”

His lips open a little. He just can’t make them go more. Fingers shove in, there’s come on his tongue. He breathes. It’s all he can smell. Alpha and come. It makes the hair on the back of his neck rise. Makes his fist clench with the need to absolutely shove this alpha off of him and punch him in the face for doing this to him.

“Hush. Easy, baby.” The fingers are back, into his mouth. “Swallow.”

Steve can’t do it. Not yet. “Give me a second,” he gasps, and grabs Bucky’s arm hard, grip bruising. Bucky sits, _sits_ down on Steve’s chest and Steve’s eyes open, gaze goes to him, terrified and needy. Whatever this feeling is, he can’t handle it. “Bucky. Bucky.”

“Swallow, baby.”

He shudders. He can’t. He turns his head away. Gets himself under control. Bucky lifts up, is going to give Steve space. It’s what Steve wanted. But, it’s even worse now. Steve might float away, Bucky’s heavy weight was all he had keeping him warm and protected and _here_. “Fuck. I just…_Wait_.” he tries to breathe. He can’t let go. Can’t figure out what he needs or wants so he closes his eyes and tears are burning at the corners.

“If you could see yourself, Steve. Knew how you look, to me. How much I love you like this. How perfect you are, all conflicted and mixed up. God, Steve. I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you. Fight it out, sweetheart. Show me. Give in to me, Stevie. _Please_, fucking give in to me.” Bucky swipes up come from Steve’s cheek and feeds it to him. Steve shudders, grabs his hand. He just needs a second. 

“Don’t need a lot, Buck. Just…something.” A hint that he’s not the only one giving.

“I can do that,” he says, and gets some of Steve’s come off of own chest, sucks it off his finger which makes Steve feel better. Steve moans at the sight. That’s what he wants. Bucky licking it all up, sucking Steve down, swallowing like a sweet little omega would.

Bucky moves off of Steve, kisses come off of Steve’s cheek, licking it up with his tongue and it’s so hot Steve gasps, arching, eyes closed as he tries to burn it into his mind. Bucky kisses him, swiping it onto Steve’s mouth. God, that’s so fucking dirty, he thinks. Bucky does it again, licking up the come but making Steve take it. Steve’s head is spinning. Bucky lays down beside him. He’s covered in come. He’s a mess.

“Clean me up, sweetheart.”

He blinks tears and gets up, shifts so he’s over Bucky. This is better. Bucky is under him. Bucky is naked and isn’t he just as vulnerable as Steve was? Isn’t he? Bucky puts a hand on Steve’s neck, grips tight and then loosens. His hand goes to the bite on Steve’s neck. It stings and he’d forgotten all about that, but now it surges to the front of everything. Stinging and raw.

“Come on, honey,” Bucky murmurs, pulling Steve to him by his neck. Steve kisses Bucky’s chin, starts with that. The come is cool. Bucky’s skin tastes of sweat and alpha and if Steve isn’t careful he’ll get hard again.

Tears fill his eyes. And he stares at Bucky’s neck, licks up the come that’s there. “Stevie,” Bucky says, soft and firm. Steve looks up at him, he’s wavery through the tears. Bucky’s hand fists in Steve’s hair, pulls him close and to his mouth, kisses him roughly and then gently. So soft. He’s searching Steve’s face, trying to read him. “You’ve always been the strong one, Steve.”

Which is utter bullshit. All the years saving Steve’s hide, being his friend, even though he wasn’t safe to love, always had one foot in the grave, working to support him, three jobs if need be, just to get Steve his medicine and keep a roof over their heads. Staying in the war for him, picking up his shield to protect them and falling from the train… this isn’t about strength.

“I’ll get you cleaned up…alpha,” Steve whispers, steady now. He shifts a little lower, and sets to work, all the come, every drop of it that he can suck and lick and kiss off of Bucky’s skin he does. Down his chest and his stomach, to the head of his cock where Steve presses a soft kiss, closes his eyes and tries to dwell in how perfect that moment really is. Alive. Bucky is here. They have this.

“Can I kiss you for a bit?” Steve asks.

“Yeah, come on,” he says, and Steve stretches out beside him, leans over him to kiss him. Revels in how soft Bucky’s lips are, how giving he is as he opens for Steve’s tongue, tastes the both of them in Steve’s mouth. Bucky moans softly, quietly, as Steve kisses him and cuddles up close. His eyes are shut, he looks at peace, vulnerable now, willing to let Steve be above him and in control of this. He sees Bucky’s hand open and close. How it goes back into a fist and then relaxes. Tension oozes out of him muscle by muscle, Bucky making it happen, mind over matter and Steve stops, lays down beside him and their hands twine together as they drift to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This should give you an idea of what I mean by forced submission for this fic. 
> 
> There was no good place to break up this chapter that wouldn't have made me feel like a jerk.


	8. Chapter 8

Steve wakes up crying, a sob choked in his throat. Bucky’s arm is around him and he’s warm. So warm. He needs to focus on that. “I dreamed you were cold,” he whispers, pulling Bucky’s arm up so it’s higher, so he can kiss his knuckles and breathe in the scent of his hand. Sex and alpha and the the two of them.

Steve starts to harden, so fast and sudden, the echo of his nightmare still so fresh in his mind that he grabs his balls, squeezing painfully. He doesn’t want to get hard like this. With the echo of Bucky’s silence all around him.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Bucky murmurs, dragging his nose up the back of Steve’s neck. Willing to wake up if Steve needs him to.

“Nothing. I had a bad dream.” He doesn’t want to say anything else aloud.

“I’m here,” Bucky says, anyway. 

“I know. I guess some part of me is confused.” He tries to keep his breathing even, think of boring things, things that don’t turn him on at all, and yet, there’s Bucky behind him, chest warm, almost sweaty against Steve’s back, and Bucky’s own cock is hard and pressed between his cheeks. “You’re hard. Fuck. I… _oh_, too hard,” Steve gasps, almost frantic.

Bucky shifts away from him, murmuring an apology, letting his hand slip away from his arm. “No, that isn’t what I meant,” Steve says, grabbing him just before he’s completely gone. Bucky comes back, presses close, kisses his shoulder.“I’m getting hard and I don’t want to. I’m sorry,” Steve says, having to let him go, needing both hands between his legs, one painful on his balls and the other squeezing his knot. His damned knot that’s filling again.

“Stevie, can you let me take care of you?” he asks, and Steve gasps out a yes. Steve pushes back into him, shivering at how strong he is, how perfect. This is what he’s lost out on. This hard body, the alpha who should have been his, to protect him.

“Alpha,” he whispers, in a high, desperate little voice, knot hurting, bringing him to some desperate low. He’s needy and lost. He just wants. He doesn’t need to give or make Bucky take, doesn’t have to dominate. He needs Bucky to take care of him.

“Tell me, baby. Let me help you.”

“I popped again. Hurts. I can’t. I don’t want to deal with it,” he confesses, half asleep and still wrecked from his nightmare.

Bucky kisses Steve’s shoulder, his hand on Steve’s stomach, gently stroking him. “Let me deal with it. Your knot should be my problem, shouldn’t it?”

“Yes, Bucky,” he whispers, and Bucky sighs, a hint of possession in there that makes Steve gasp. Bucky gets a hand on Steve’s cock.

“Do you have my slick?” he whispers, low and rough.

And that makes the tears come faster, his knot get bigger and more sore, so that he’s just throbbing, pulsing with how stuffed full of come he feels.

Steve grabs it off the bedside table and clenches it in his fist. He tries to figure out what to do now. “Do you want to put some on, baby? Or should I do it?”

“You said it wasn’t my problem,” Steve says. He can do it himself. He should do it himself. But, isn’t he Bucky’s to deal with?

“No, it isn’t your problem,” Bucky agrees and he lets go of Steve’s shaft and takes the slick from him. He rolls to his back and Steve is cold, lying on his side like one of those horrible deaths on Pompei. Fuck, he’s cold and miserable and he just wants Bucky touching him already. 

Bucky gets the tin open and scoops some out, knuckles sliding over Steve’s hip so he doesn’t surprise him when he wraps his hand around Steve’s cock and strokes him carefully. “It isn’t your problem, it’s mine. I swear I’ll make it better,” he says it so gently and Steve shudders, whimpering through every single touch. “Sweetheart, you’re just so sore, aren’t you?”

“Fix it,” he demands.

“Course I will. Love you, baby.” He kisses Steve’s shoulder and Steve tilts his head, lets his neck be exposed. Hips grind gently into his ass, Bucky’s own erection hard and damp as Bucky presses a soft kiss to his bite.

“Ahh, I’m gonna…_Bucky_, oh, please, make me, make me _now_, I need to come. Come foryou,” Steve says, the words broken and so unlike his normal self that it’s like he’s two different people.

“Go ahead, sweetheart. If you can come, you do so. Don’t wait. Don’t drag it out. You just come, baby. Don’t you want to give that to me?”

“Yes, I do. You don’t know how much. Oh, that _hurts_,” he says, shuddering, muscles locked as Bucky loosens his hold, the lightest slide of his grip over the knot itself. And then he’s lost, unintelligible and beyond anything as Bucky works him, trying to get his knot to go. Bucky’s hand goes up, so he’s stroking down and into the knot, pressing and pressing and then a little faster and it’s coiling him tighter and tighter, but he’s never going to go over. He just isn’t.

It’s endless, the heat of arousal sliding over that edge from good to painful and still he’s hard and this only ends one way, it has to, but he’s losing faith in himself.

“I’ve got you. Of course you can,” he says, and Steve has no idea what he’d even said to get that response. “I’m going to bite you, Steve. You’ve gotta come now.”

He can’t help, can’t tilt his head, or agree, or do anything to indicate that he wants it. He’s just agony and his knot, helpless and blind to it. Teeth sink into his neck, partially over the other bite and he comes instantly, deep and hard, the ache of it curling all through his body. Bucky moans and Steve’s back is suddenly soaked, Bucky’s hard cock grinding between his cheeks as he comes all over Steve.

“There you go. Sweeter than any omega, Steve.” He keeps his touch going, making sure Steve gets the most out of his orgasm, trying to make the knot feel good, too. “Perfect. Rest, baby. You did it,” he whispers, and his hand stills, gentle and then loosens a bit more, being patient with it, giving Steve time to adjust and lose sensitivity before he releases him.

Protecting Steve’s knot like it really is his.

Steve drifts, half aware of what’s going on, utterly weak. Bucky finally lets him go all together and Steve curls up on himself, wishes Bucky was still holding him. Bucky gets out of bed, comes back a minute later with a warm washcloth, wipes Steve slow and soft, murmuring to him the whole time. He presses a kiss to Steve’s forehead and then gets him water, makes him drink and then eat something.

“Come back to bed?” Steve begs.

“Can I shower first?”

“Of course,” he says, closing his eyes.

“Stevie. You’re not always this terrible of a liar. Be honest with me.”

“Don’t go. Not yet.” Bucky gets back into bed, curls up next to Steve and holds him while Steve falls back asleep.

***

Steve wakes up because the shower is running. He lifts the covers, looks at his cock. What an asshole. His dick has utterly betrayed him. Not that he wants his dick to look any different. He is glad it’s normal looking, but the pain and the swelling had been so intense he feels like it should be visible. There should be some proof that he survived that agony. 

He lets his hand slide across the bed to where Bucky was, moves over, imagines he’s in the same divot as his body made in the mattress, thinks maybe he can catch a hint of his lingering warmth and his scent. Steve feels…soft. Content. Still sore but good. He touches his chest, fingers sliding over his nipples, squeezing them to see how they feel and then down, down to his taint, wanting to touch below that, where he’d take Bucky if that was something he was going to try to do. He’d never fit. How could Steve get this tight opening to stretch wide enough to let Bucky inside? The thoughts are muzzy and half formed.

At least he wouldn’t have to worry about a knot. Because that was problematic for omegas, let alone alphas. The water goes off.

There’s some shuffling or something and then the water goes back on. Is the bathtub filling? A few minutes later the water goes offand the door opens. Bucky comes out, towel around his hips and sits next to Steve. He telegraphs his move, hand to Steve’s hair and Steve closes his eyes, lets the anticipation build, welcoming the touch, refusing to be concerned in any way.

“I ran you a bath,” he says, bending closer, pressing lips to Steve’s forehead and then his mouth.

“Are you going to wash me?” Steve asks, keeping his eyes closed.

“If you’d let me, then, yes.”

“I want to let you.”

“I understand if you can’t.”

He opens his eyes. “I guess that’s all we can do.”

Bucky gets him into the bath and it’s so damned warm and soothing, Steve’s still so tired and sore that he can’t even pay attention to what Bucky does. Bucky washes his back and shampoos his hair and cleans him from head to toe, patient and quiet, occasionally humming or bringing up some random thing from the past or a question. Steve doesn’t remember any of it later. Not a single word. He remembers the touch, and he remembers how soft Bucky was, he remembers what it felt like to have that alpha protection and care directed towards him and to let it sink into him and wash over him instead of trying to stand against it.

He remembers Bucky helping him out of the bath. Literally holding his hand and drying him off, pressing kisses to him all over and he even dried Steve’s feet. He remembers Bucky being on the ground, on his _knees_, when he couldn’t do it the day before. He remembers touching Bucky’s damp hair and Bucky looking up at him with a smile, pressing a kiss to Steve’s inner thigh before getting him dressed. He eats the food Bucky gives him, drinks the water, and then they pack the car and Steve gives Bucky the keys because he needs to take another nap.

When they get home, the spell is broken. They haul all their crap back up to Steve’s apartment, Bucky runs out to do a few errands, Steve goes to the grocery store and has a text from Sam. They meet up for coffee and talk about the Hydra base he and Nat took out (uneventful) and Steve sits there thinking about how he’s lying to Sam and not telling him about the absolutely crazy stuff they got up to. Like, how could he?

The more he thinks about it, the worse the whole situation is. First of all, he’s gotta fess up to be being bi with a heavy thumb on the scale to preferring men, and sure, it’s not a big deal, but on the other hand, isn’t it? And then he’d have to say he’s got feelings for his best friend who is an alpha and he’s such a disaster he’d probably mention his stupid knot. Sam doesn’t need that information. Steve’s doing them both a favor by keeping his mouth shut. 

Popping a knot, not once but _twice_ with Bucky isn’t something he’s sure he’s emotionally equipped to deal with. And, because he doesn’t know where to start with any of that, he says nothing at all. He doesn’t even say that Bucky was shot. He feels like saying anything at all will lead to him spilling the whole sordid thing.

Maybe he’ll tell Nat. He feels like she’d just smirk and say something calm and perhaps dismissive. Which is actually more of what he’s looking for, instead of wanting to have a therapy session about the whole thing. Except that she may have slept with Bucky.

He’s on his way back to his apartment when he gets a call from Bucky. Not that he recognizes the number. It’s a strange thing to hear his voice and not see him. “Hey. If we’re not going to head out for a few days, I was wondering if you just wanted to meet up then?”

Steve stops in the middle of the sidewalk. “What do you mean?”

There’s a long pause. “If you feel like you need some space from me after what happened.”

“Just say _you_ need space,” Steve says, pissed. Bucky’s not going to throw this back at him.

There’s a sigh. “I’m just trying to do right by you, Steve. I wanted to give you options is all.”

“If you don’t want to be there, then that’s fine, just say so. But, you are _always_ welcome at my place. And if you want to get something bigger so we each have a room, then I will do that _immediately_. Don’t put this on me if you’re needing space.”

“You are so stubborn,” Bucky says, but he sounds fond. His voice gets raspy at the end and Steve can’t stop his dick from twitching in interest. God, he’s almost scared to get hard now.

“What are you going to do?” Steve demands.

“First, I’m going to see if I can pick up this hot guy across the street from me and then maybe dinner?”

Steve hangs up the phone. Fuck him. Really? _Really?_ After what they just did, Bucky has the _nerve_ to say that to him? He stalks off down the street and it takes him a minute to realize someone is calling his name. He whirls around and sees Bucky coming towards him, jogging. “Why are you running away?”

“I know I should let it go, but I can’t. How could you do that to me and then just go out and try to pick up some omega and throw that in my face? How _dare_ you,” he says, and he can’t help it, he shoves Bucky hard.

“Stevie,” he says, utterly shocked. “Sweetheart, I was talking about you. I saw _you_ across the street!” It takes a minute to register and when it does, Steve feels like a total idiot. His apartment is a block away. It’s not a surprise he’d see him on the street just when everything starts to close for the night.

“Where did you go?” he asks, trying not to do something batshit crazy like start crying or throw himself at him.

“Let’s get you home. I’m sorry, Steve,” he says, all sincerity. He puts a hand on Steve’s back as they walk down the street then slings an arm around him when Steve presses closer. Steve stops in the middle of the sidewalk and hugs him, buries his face in his shoulder and breathes him in. He’s not right yet. It’s like he doesn’t have all his armor on or something. He feels vulnerable and emotionally exposed. He wants Bucky to protect him in a way he hasn’t since he was sixteen years old, the summer before he became a beta.

When Bucky was always all over him, crowding him into corners and eyeing him up like he was going to bend him over and fuck him the moment he came into his secondary gender.

It was the best summer of his life. He hadn’t been ill since the spring, had only had one asthma attack and his ma was alive but working a lot. Healthy. That summer, Bucky only worked part time and if he wasn’t working he was at Steve’s, sprawled out on his couch. And he’d sit sprawled too, legs spread like an invitation, like his dick was already so big he needed the space. It made Steve blush to think about, made his stomach flutter and he couldn’t wait til he became an omega, because it would be even better. All these little feelings would be amplified.

Steve would put his head down in Bucky’s lap, feel Bucky brushing through his hair, occasionally tightening his hand into a fist. His eyes would blow wide, his cheeks would flush and Steve would be able to feel Bucky getting hard, just from that.

He’d sit at Bucky’s feet and give him a look, laughing with pleasure when Bucky would curse him and have to adjust himself, hard just from the idea of what Steve could do to him. Even better were the times when he’d sometimes make an excuse and leave the room. The idea that Bucky was jerking off because of him, filled him with joy. He’d started to call Steve his ‘little omega’ and it was the first summer where he’d looked at himself in the mirror, how delicate he was, how blond and wide-eyed and felt like everything was right. He looked like an omega. One Bucky might be happy to come home to.

And then he’d become a beta. It’d been awful. All the things they’d only half said, the promises half made because they were waiting to do it right. And then that dream was gone. They’d both grieved. Steve’s mom got sick, Bucky worked more, and after his ma died and they moved in together, things had been different. He’d known there was no way Bucky would want him then.

That agony was nothing compared to when he became an alpha. Seeing Bucky again, having this visceral reaction to him of defensiveness and posturing, having his smell burn the back of Steve’s nose, it all took getting used to. Right now, with how emotional he is, how weirdly needy he feels, Bucky’s smell makes him feel better. It’s soothing and good.

Not that he smells good to Bucky. He undoubetedly stinks like an alpha.

“What’s the point? You don’t want me. You _never_ did. Just call it a mistake and let’s move on,” Steve said, pulling away from him. They get into the building, Steve trudging up his stairs. He can’t get the key in the lock and Bucky is careful, moving slow, palms open, finally asking for the key. Steve shoves it into his hands, paces away while Bucky gets the door open, and then Steve slams past him, shoving into him hard as he goes in first.

He goes straight to his bedroom where Bucky’s stuff is. He brings it out, drops it on the floor. “There. Is that what you wanted?”

“It’s beginning to look like you don’t have a fucking clue what I wanted. Jesus, Stevie, I’m not quite sure what to do here.”

“You’d know if I was an omega.”

“But… you’re _not_ an omega and you wouldn’t like being treated that way,” he says, and he puts his shopping down on the floor, near the couch. Which is definitely indicative that Steve isn’t getting rid of him that easy. He needs him to go. Needs to be alone so he can be miserable in peace and…. Steve looks around, contemplating throwing something at him.

He strides to the kitchen counter, reaches for a bowl he puts change in and Bucky is there at the same time, uses his metal fucking arm to shove Steve down onto the counter. “You better be fucking kidding me. You were _not_ just going to throw that at _me_.”

“Let me go.”

“Give me your hand,” Bucky orders and Steve shoves an elbow back into him. Bucky kicks Steve’s leg so it buckles, gets him to the ground, hand still on his neck, sits on his back and then lets go to grab his wrists. He shoves them both down, uses the strength of the metal arm to get them crossed again. Above his head. “It’s time you settled the fuck down or I will give you what you’re asking me for.”

“I’m not asking you for _anything_. You don’t want me. Why the fuck would you? We both know what you like. Female. Omega. It’s not me. It was _never_ going to be me. You feeding me and giving me a bath like you’re going to swoop in and save the day. _Fuck you_.”

“God, shut up, Steve,” he says, utterly exasperated. And Bucky bends down, bites the back of Steve’s neck where his hand was, teeth settling into the skin like some kind of mama cat who’s about to carry him away. The press of his lips makes Steve want to cry. And then there’s teeth, so hard and unyielding, trying to force him to give in. To yield.

He wishes he could. He wants to. If giving in meant that he got to belong to Bucky and could have him, he’d do it. Bucky finally releases his skin and sucks a bruise into the same spot. It burns. “You taste sad. And lonely,” Bucky says, close to his ear.

Steve is still, much stiller than he means to be. This is where he should fight. “You taste like you need me. Do you? Can you feel me getting hard against you? I can smell you getting hard too, baby. Are you going to let me feel or are you going to struggle?” Bucky murmurs.

Bucky bites him on the ear when he doesn’t answer. Nipping his earlobe and then sucking on it, which, it turns out he has a particular weakness for. “Stop. I don’t want--”

“What?”

“Leave me alone.”

“No. That is most definitely not happening. You don’t want that, either. What else do you think you _don’t_ want, Steve?” he demands, and he lets Steve go, shoves his hands under Steve and gropes his chest through his shirt. He’s not gentle about it. Almost instantly the fabric is too rough against his nipples.

Steve’s hands go to the floor, lifting himself a few inches which just seems to motivate Bucky more. Bucky yanks hard on the fabric, pulling it up so it’s bunched around Steve’s neck. “Bucky.”

“No, I’m _alpha_ now. I like it when you say it like you’re about to come at the very idea.”

“I don’t!” Steve’s blushing. He did say it like that. He remembers that, mortified. Had kind of hoped Bucky hadn’t noticed in all the lust.

Bucky’s fingers are pinching at Steve’s nipples, only stopping to grab each pec, pressing bruises into him. He tries to catch his breath, is ready to make a serious effort to stop this when Bucky speaks. “Are you going to say you don’t want me?” he asks, silky and soft. He flips Steve to his back, hauls his shirt off of him bends down to suck biting bruises into Steve’s chest.

Steve rolls up, pressing into his mouth. Bucky laughs. “You’re not doing a very good job getting away. Look at how red your nipples are. Jesus Christ, Steve. Fucking look at you.” He pets through Steve’s chest hair, rubs his thumb over his nipple roughly and lowers to give the other one attention.

Steveturns his head to the side, as if he’s denying the whole thing, his hips twitching needily as Bucky sucks on his nipple. His hands itch to be in Bucky’s hair, to keep him there, encourage him to keep going, make the sensation more intense. It’s a hot pleasure right now but he wants to be bruised up, nipples sore and swollen because _his_ alpha couldn’t get enough. Steve gives in to the urge, puts his hands in Bucky’s hair and moans. He opens his legs, making a space for his alpha. He needs his cock. “Make me feel it. Please,” he gasps.

Bucky growls at him, pleased, ruts hard into his taint and his balls. “Poor baby. Poor, poor little sweetheart,” Bucky says, and there are definitely more bites now than kisses. Each one makes him harder, has him jerking into Bucky’s mouth and then trying to get away. “Now, go ahead and tell your alpha what you don’t want.”

“I don’t know. I wish we were still at the motel. I liked how you made me feel.”

Bucky drops his head, is still on top of Steve. His heart is beating fast, echoing in Steve, his body so sensitive and hyperaware after the serum that he can feel it. Bucky takes a breath in and holds it, relaxes slowly. “Fuck, you make me nuts. Um, which part?” Bucky asks, calmer now, pressing gentle kisses to Steve’s chest. “Of the hotel?” he clarifies, when Steve doesn’t answer.

Steve swallows. “I liked all of it.”

“Stevie,” he says, like he’s disappointed in him. “Did you like it when you popped your knot? Did you like it when I made you swallow?”

Bucky’s expecting him to say he didn’t. “I liked it when you took care of me. I liked it when you came. I can’t imagine getting one without the other,” he says. “It was all worth it. I think I would give anything to always feel like that with you. Shit,” he says, and presses the heels of his hands to his eyes.

“Stevie,” Bucky says, worryingly careful. “You can tell me to make you submit. We can come up with a way for you to ask for it, if that’s what you want. But, you getting angry and almost hitting me…. Provoking me or starting a fight. I don’t want to be that way with you. We’re not doing this like that. I love you too much for that. When things settle, then we can do it this way if you want, but… I don’t want you to throw things at me. I don’t want you to be angry and miserable and have my job be to fuck you happy against your will until you yield to me.”

He sobs. “I didn’t mean it like that. I wasn’t trying to. Fuck, I swear it wasn’t on purpose.”Is that what he was trying to do? Fight Bucky? After everything Bucky has been through, more violence isn’t something he wants to bring between them. Of course it isn’t. He just wants to submit and submit hard. He wants Bucky to make him do what he wants.

“Hush, baby. It’s okay. We’re okay. Promise,” he says, and Steve shifts under him, trying to get Bucky’s cock where he wants it. So he can at least do something right for his alpha. “God, Steve, wait,” Bucky says, and puts his hand on Steve’s hip to stop him from riling him up further. “Do you know what _you_ want?”

“I want what you want.”

Bucky winces. “Okay. If you want to try, then I will do everything I can to make it work, baby. You might need to be patient with me,” Bucky says, “Submitting to you—”

“No. I don’t want you to submit to me,” Steve interrupts. “I don’t mean that I want to be an alpha _as well_. I just want to do whatever you want.” Steve as an alpha was never how they were supposed to work. And even though he has flashes of wanting to do alpha things to him, or has to fight his alpha instincts… it isn’t what Steve really wants. He doesn’t ever want to try to dominate Bucky. Rationally, he knows that. In the heat of the moment, he seems to forget.

“To me, it seemed like there were points where I was trying to sort of reassert my dominance. I don’t like that. I don’t want you to let me do that. It was better when I was really submitting. I want more of that. I want to be kept submissive for you.”

“For how long?” And this is one of the things he loves about Bucky, how accepting he is. Steve has said what he wants and so now Bucky is going to try to give it to him.

“I don’t know. As long as we can,” he says, when what he wants to say is forever. Bucky has his brow furrowed, the thinking brow. He presses his face to Steve’s chest, sighing against him. It tickles and makes Steve shiver, feel empty inside.

Another reminder of what he isn’t. “It’s not going to make me wet,” he says, when Bucky’s thumb slides over his nipple.

“Well, no. But, you sure are sweet under me like this. Playing with your tits makes me hard. Isn’t that what you want?”

He wants to be an omega. Shit, there are tears on Steve’s face again. Steve lets the misery consume him. It’s like ice cold water filling a plane, it’s like the pain of staying still while death flirts with freezing, watery hands.

“It’s always been you. You know that, Steve. Don’t you? If I hadn’t been drafted and we’d had more time, we would have stayed together. I think we’d always wind up here. I think we’ve always wanted each other too damned much.”

“Yeah, Buck.”

“I’d still have been your alpha and you’d have been my sweetheart. I swear, you could be such a stubborn prick to everyone else, but you were always sweet to me.”

““I want you to fuck me.”

Bucky nods. Like Steve just said he should pick up milk next time he’s at the store. “When do you want that to happen? Realistically?”

“That’s a weird question,” Steve says.

“No, it isn’t. What should I have said?”

“Why? Are you sure? No fucking way. Those are all responses I was anticipating.”

Bucky huffs a laugh. “Well, I’m not going to say ‘no fucking way.’ I’m not an idiot. Jesus, of course I want to be inside you. Baby, I’ve been wanting that since I was thirteen and figured out it was possible.”

“You remember _that_?” 

“Not like a defining aha moment, but I remember that was the summer my parents took us to the lake and we went skinny dipping. I could barely look at you because I kept staring at your ass and fantasizing about what it would be like. I have a really vivid memory of your pale, skinny ass. There was no water cold enough to take care of that erection.”

“Oh. Well, good,” Steve says, blushing a little. 

Bucky presses the pad of his index finger into Steve’s nipple, traces along the edge of his nipple, presses his short nail into the skin and looking at Steve for a reaction. “Harder,” Steve confesses.

“Jesus, you’ll make me come in my pants if you keep that up.”

“What?” Steve asks, because that’s now a goal.

Bucky shakes his head. “I’m getting distracted. I asked when you wanted to do it because it’s not easy and…. It isn’t everything. In the scheme of things, that’s nothing compared to having you beside me.”

“That’s not good enough for me.” He wants all of Bucky. Like he should have had. Bucky is still cupping his pec. His knot is beginning to throb.

Bucky squeezes, presses the small point between two fingers until Steve makes a sound, acknowledging him. “There are so many other things you can give me. Things we can do to make each other feel good. Anal sex isn’t everything.”

“I’m not concerned with me feeling good. I do, I will, I know you’ll take care of me, but this isn’t actually about you, it’s about me.” Steve’s pretty sure that doesn’t even make any sense. “I want you inside me for _me_,” he says. That’s clear, right? He needs Bucky inside him for him. Steve can’t be happy if he can’t give that to Bucky. He’ll never be convinced he’s enough if they can’t find a way.

It’s actually a relief to have a goal, to reach the conclusion that he needs something. “Yeah. It’s important to me.”

“Okay. I want a bit of time to figure it out.”

“You’re in luck. It’s actually pretty easy. Insert tab A into tab B and repeat.”

“You’re fucking hilarious.”

“I’m fucking hard. I’m sick of talking about it. We’ll research, I get it. But, you know I want it as soon as possible, right?”

“Do I know that you’re impatient as fuck, and when you set your mind to something, that it’s going to happen no matter how difficult it is? No, I had no idea.”

Bucky is quiet for a long moment.

“Do you want to be a good omega and make me come?” he asks, and he pushes Steve’s chest together with two hands. “I love your tits.”

“I don’t think I like you calling me an omega. It’s like you’re making fun of me.”

“You called me alpha.”

Bucky waits.

“It felt right to call you alpha because that’s what you are. I’m not an omega.”

“Well. Promise you won’t get offended?”

“No.”

Bucky carries on, ignoring Steve’s response. “As an alpha and someone who knows omegas, I can tell you that you whimpered and came like an omega. You begged me and licked up all that come like the sweetest, filthiest omega. Now then, I think you’re going to need to apologize, don’t you?”

“For what?”

“For being an asshole who was going to throw something at me.”

“Oh. It made you hard and it wasn’t like I was actually going to hurt you,” he says.

“Jesus, the cheek is back already. Come on, sweetheart. You’re going to get your pants down around your thighs, and I’m going to come all over you and rub it into your tits.”

Steve’s breath hitches. That’s not what Steve was expecting. Bucky shoves back and Steve gets to his knees slowly, hands shaky as he undoes his pants, shoves them and his underwear down so he’s bared like Bucky wants.

“Beautiful. Put your head on your arms, spread your legs as wide as you can.”

“Bucky?” he asks, overwhelmed.

“Present, sweetheart.”

Shit. That’s a lot. He stares at Bucky for a long moment, willing him to change his mind. _Present_. He goes, shifting to hands and knees. He hates it. His cock drips. His chest hurts. It feels like he has tits and they’re hanging. He’s so sore. Steve tries to control his breathing, doesn’t want to give away how much he both loves and hates it. Bucky’s hand settles in the middle of his back and Steve makes a sound, unintentionally.

“You’re so sweet, Steve.” There’s the unmistakable sound of Bucky stroking himself, jerking off, his hand bumping Steve’s butt cheek. “You won’t get to wash it off, Steve. Not tonight. I think you can spread your legs a little wider, don’t you?”

Bucky’s hand slips between Steve’s thighs, cups his balls, strokes the area a little higher, where his knot would pop. “Bucky?” he whispers. Excited and terrified.

“Easy, sweetheart. I won’t make you tonight.”

The hand slips back to his balls and then his taint, rubbing him there. Bucky’s thumb is close to his hole but not touching. He knows Bucky is staring at him there. At his hole and how submissive he looks. Does that mean there are times where he’s going to make Steve knot?

“This is where you belong, isn’t it, Steve? You’re perfect with your ass up, your hole winking at me.”

He bites his lip so he doesn’t say anything or moan. When Bucky comes on him, Steve relaxes. Everything is better now. It’s all over his back. Bucky scoops it up, urges Steve up and reaches around him to put his hands back over Steve’s chest. Steve’s eyes close. The come is warm and his pecs feel really big and sensitive with all the attention. Bucky pinches him, doesn’t stop even after it’s rubbed in, keeps going until it’s difficult to stay sill and let it happen.

Until he’s pressing back, rubbing his ass against Bucky’s half hard cock and trying desperately not to jerk himself off. “I won’t stop until you make those little sounds I like. You’re biting em all back, don’t think I don’t know. Come on, give it to me.”

He shakes his head, a jerk of movement. It’s taking all of his concentration to keep it together. It goes on forever. Long enough that Bucky gets hard again, heavy cock sliding between Steve’s cheeks. “Okay, let’s do it again, sweetheart.” Bucky’s hand goes around Steve’s neck, tilts his chin up and the other goes to Steve’s balls, holding them in his hand. “You’re gonna use all that strength to stay still while your alpha uses you, aren’t you?”

He exhales shaky and Bucky chuckles. “You’re going to give it to me. Yeah, you are. God, I love your ass, Steve. I love your tits and I love how stubborn you are.” Bucky’s hand tightens on Steve’s balls as he picks up the pace, rutting hard against him. He comes, presses his face to Steve’s back, kisses his neck, but he doesn’t bite. He hasn’t once since he told Steve to present.

He wishes he could beg for it. That he trusted himself enough or had a bit more control so he could get ask Bucky to bite him. One bite and he’d go under. Go limp and, hell, he might even come he’s so hard. He’s been on the edge for fucking ever. Just dangling there, struggling to not make a sound and—

“Fuck, so good,” Bucky groans, as the heat of his come spurts all over Steve’s back again. It’s too much, he thinks, and trembles. “Here, baby. Look what you earned. I swear, we should just keep you messy, shouldn’t we?”

He has no idea. Bucky sighs, happily, scoops up more come and rubs it into Steve’s chest. “Do you like it, honey? Make a sound so I know.”

He can’t. He just can’t. Bucky knows. He doesn’t know why it didn’t register earlier. Steve’s waiting for a fucking bite so he can let go, get swept away and submit and Bucky is denying him. He’s got to give in on his own. Shit, he can’t. Panic, just a hint of it starts to unfurl inside of him. So stupid that he can’t just make a sound and moan like Bucky wants. Like an omega would.

“Fuck, Stevie, you took it all again. No more come, sweetheart. It’s all rubbed into your sweet tits, isn’t it? I know they’re sore. And I know you love it. You better, anyway. It’s going to happen a lot. You wore me out, Steve. I want my baby to rest before dinner. So, you have two options now. One, I work your knot until it pops and I know for a fucking fact you’ll start yowling like a bitch in heat then, or I put you to bed. Just like this. Messy. Used. And hard.”

Steve whimpers. It’s almost soundless. But, Bucky hugs him tight, tells him he’s so good. 

“P-put me to bed?” he asks, quietly.

“On my side of the bed?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you need to come?”

“Only if you want me to.”

“Let’s put you to bed and see how sweet you are if I leave you hard.”

He whimpers, presses back into Bucky, feels the rush of tears to his eyes at being denied. Bucky gets him to his feet, helps strip him of his clothes, leaving them in the living room as he takes him to bed. He pulls the covers back and Steve gets in, watching Bucky smooth the covers through watery eyes.

“Thank you, alpha.”

“Rest, baby. Do you know how good you were?”

He blushes. 

Bucky kisses his mouth again, bites Steve’s bottom lip so it stings. “I want to come on you again. You’re perfect, Steve.”

Even though he’s hard enough to cry, he sleeps. And there are no bad dreams.


	9. Chapter 9

Bucky brings him breakfast in bed. “You went out?” he asks, shocked at how well he slept. Apparently emotional outbursts, Bucky’s come and being denied are all it takes for Steve to sleep like the dead. Screw Tylenol PM.

“Yeah, I woke up early and went for a run. Figured you deserved something after yesterday. Obviously, a sandwich isn’t exactly going to make up for how I treated you, I know that. But, it’s a start. Maybe 50 years of breakfast sandwiches? Assuming you want me in your bed still,” he says, frowning. Bucky’s cheeks go pink.

“I feel like I woke up in the Twilight Zone. Why are you… weird? Shouldn’t you be pounding your chest or something? Proud of your conquest?”

“Fuck. I’m sorry. What we did yesterday, the things I made you do, I just got carried away.”

Steve swallows his bite of sandwich. He’s ridiculously hungry. “That was really fucking hot and I slept better than any other night I can remember since, hell, since the serum. Is this because you threatened to make me pop my knot and yowl like a bitch in heat?”

Bucky goes red. A wash of color completely moving up his neck and all over his face. It would be comical under different circumstances. Steve knows it will be comical later. Actually, it’s almost funny now. “God, if you knew how much it amuses me to see you so flustered….”

“You’re not…mad?”

“I’m not even mad you didn’t let me come. Or that you said I should always be covered in your come.” He puts a hand to his chest, rubs at his nipple. It’s still sore from Bucky’s mouth. His chest hair is matted with come. “If you’re going to keep doing that I should shave.”

“Um… so there’s no outrage?”

“Nope. No, wait. I am outraged. I’m outraged you haven’t kissed me yet.”

“Is that so?”

“It is very much so,” he says, and crams the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth. Bucky rolls his eyes at him. He leans forward and kisses Steve’s collarbone, brushes a fingertip down Steve’s chest and over his nipple. He kisses downwards, flicking his tongue over Steve’s nipple and breathing him in.

“God, you absolutely stink of me. What time is it?”

Steve reaches over to the bedside table for his phone and looks at it. “7:30. Oh!” he gasps, as Bucky pushes him to his front and moves on top of him. He kisses Steve’s back, breathing him in and kissing him all over. “Fuck. There is no way we have time for this,” Steve says, plaintively. 

“Was it hard to go to bed hard?”

“Yes. It was hard to be hard,” he says snarkily.

Bucky smacks him on the ass and Steve wiggles. “If you want to get there on time then you better stay still.”

“Really?”

“Uh huh,” he says, sucking a bruise into Steve’s neck.

“Oh, fuck. Can I come this morning?” he asks, softly.

“Let’s take a shower.”Bucky gets off of him and pulls Steve to his feet, drags him to the shower and follows him in. He washes Steve carefully, thoroughly. And he lets Steve do the same, which makes Steve happy in a strange way. It’s like an accomplishment. Steve has made Bucky so relaxed and secure feeling that his own instincts don’t get triggered. He can’t stop smiling as he washes Bucky’s back, reaches around him to touch his hard cock and balls. Bucky leans back into him.

“While you’re there….” he says, and covers Steve’s hand with his own, urging him to jack him off, just in case Steve didn’t get the message.

“Will you come on me?”

Bucky groans and fucks hard into Steve’s fist. “I better not. Unless you want to cause quite the stir at the gym today.” 

“Right,” he says, disappointed. Bucky turns in his arms and kisses him deeply, moves to press Steve against the tiles.

“You get me so fucking hard, babydoll.”

“Yeah?” he asks, offering his neck.

“Yeah. Fuck, yes. I’m going to come, Steve. Do you want it?”

Steve blushes, kisses Bucky’s chest as he goes down to the ground. He takes Bucky in his mouth, gets a taste of Bucky’s come and swallows eagerly. It tastes different right now. It’s not the best but he wants it. It isn’t as bitter. He puts his hand on his stomach, like he’s already anticipating having it inside him.

“Jesus, Steve. So good, baby,” he says, and then he comes, thrusts in and out gently while Steve swallows over and over again. When he’s done he reaches a hand down for Steve.

Steve shakes his head, rests against Bucky’s thigh. “I need a minute.”

Bucky turns off the water and gets down to the ground with him. “Are you okay? Was that too difficult?”

“No, it was amazing. I’m just really relaxed and want to enjoy it for a second.”

“How about I get you off here then?”

“Um, I’m okay.”

Bucky looks down at him. Steve’s really hard. He’s weeping rather copiously actually. “You didn’t come last night and now this morning. Are you sure?”

He offers his mouth and Bucky kisses him again. “I’m sure. I feel good.”

“Tell me if you need me.”

“Okay,” he says, whisper soft.

“You’re so sweet, baby.” Bucky sounds stupidly fond when he says it. Steve blushes. It’s going to be a good day. 

***

They walk to training, Steve feeling like he needs the cold air and city noise to help clear out the submission still running through him. He gets on the treadmill and it takes a solid hour for him to feel more like himself. To be aware of the others doing their thing and giving him worried looks. Steve is sweating, stinks like an alpha and he looks around the room for Bucky, sees him blocking Natasha’s kicks and speaking to her in Russian.

Bucky laughs. Steve’s head whips around, needing to know what made him laugh that wasn’t Steve. It’s Natasha _and_ Wanda, which is better somehow. He doesn’t like feeling jealous.

He does some sparring with Natasha but can feel Bucky watching him. She goes easy on him but it doesn’t matter. Steve’s out of it. When Sam sits down next to Bucky and starts talking to him, both of them laughing and then Bucky leaning close to listen to something Sam says, he gets her boot in his face.

It isn’t a glancing blow. It’s solid and somehow catches him in the fucking eye and he’s got a hand up and over his face before the feeling of it all has really set in. Pain and embarrassment.

“Jesus!” He hears Bucky shout, and then Bucky is beside him, trying to get a look.

“I don’t want to be here for this,” he whispers. “In front of everyone.”

“Right.” Bucky leads him away, into the locker room and then into the private bathroom that has a lock on it. “Let’s see, babydoll.”

Steve lifts his hand away, eye watering. “I feel more like an idiot than anything else.”

“You can see?”

“Yeah. I was just startled.” He turns to look in the mirror. His eye is bloodshot and there’s a massive black eye forming. Steve starts to shake and Bucky pulls him into a hug. “What if this is what I’m always like now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Emotional and distracted and fuck, such an _idio_t out there. Look at me, I’m shaking. I got punched and all I wanted to do was have you hold me. This is the kind of distraction that will get me killed. Which kind of figures, considering I don’t want to die now.”

“Well, that’s progress,” Bucky says, though he doesn’t seem all that happy about it.“You’re a little distracted, sure. But, you can’t base how everything will be on the last couple of days.” He won’t stop checking Steve over, and touching him, which is nice but kind of ridiculous since it was just his eye and not his chest or arms. “You know it was my eye, right?”

Bucky gives him a look.

“You’re like all over me. Which is nice, don’t stop, but excessive. Maybe we’re both in a weird place.”

Bucky’s hands are in his hair now, practically grooming him. “I mean, do you want to stop?”

“No. I’d let all of this go, before I give up being with you,” Steve says, touching him back, wanting that connection with him.

“Shit, that’s pretty romantic stuff. I feel like I should give you a hand job or something,” he says, with a leer. Well, he’s going for a leer but it’s pretty clear Bucky can’t keep his hands off of him.

“Pfft. Yeah, it is romantic. I should get a blow job for the level of sacrifice I’d make for you,” he says. Bucky is wetting a paper towel, pressing it to his face gently.

Steve flinches.

“Stay still.”

“It’s fine.”

Bucky takes the cloth away, drops it into the trash. He’s looking at Steve’s lips. He kisses him softly and starts undoing Steve’s pants. “You’re right, sweetheart. You’ve been so good, you deserve it, don’t you?”

“Bucky?”

Bucky slips down Steve’s body. “Don’t touch me unless I tell you, okay? I don’t think it’s an issue, but just don’t make me feel trapped.”

“Wait. You don’t have to.”

“I know. I want to,” he says, tongue sliding over the head of Steve’s cock. His legs sag. Bucky pulls off of him and laughs.

“Sorry. I just— shit— oh my god. Between last night and not coming in the shower this morning. Maybe that’s why I got kicked in the head. You’re going to let me come, right? Oh, fuck, Bucky. You will. You’ll let me, won’t you?” He moans as Bucky goes deep and sucks hard.

And then there’s the tingle at the base of his shaft. “Stop,” he begs and Bucky pulls off of him. Steve is panting. He closes his eyes, looking at Bucky is too arousing.

“You gonna pop that knot for me?”

“I don’t want to. Shit. I think it’s too late.” Bucky makes a humming sound and kisses him where the knot is beginning to bulge.

“You didn’t ask me what I want,” Bucky murmurs.

“What do you want?”

“I want you so hard your knot aches. That really brings you low, sweetheart. I love that it happens and that I’m the only who can fix it. If it were up to me, you’d knot every time. I’d get you hard, make you pop and put a ring on you, leave you riled up and desperate.

“Bucky,” he says, but he only has the name. Deciding if it’s good, bad, perfect, that’s all beyond him. He just _wants_.

“Feel how hard that makes me?” he says, getting to his feet. He crowds Steve against the counter and Steve puts his hand on Bucky through his pants.

“Bucky,” he says, voice hitching. “My knot. Will you please make me come now?”

“Well, I do like how sweetly you asked. Let me finish playing with you, getting you all kissed and then we’ll see.” There’s a glint in his eye. Steve shakes his head, puts his arms around Bucky’s neck and tries to kiss him. Bucky’s hard. It changes everything. “I don’t need it. Let me take care of you.”

“Oh no. This is your reward, baby,” he says, and he bites Steve on the neck, sharp and quick and Steve’s heart pounds in response. Steve stands a little straighter. Quick and sharp isn’t how Bucky usually does it. He doesn’t think he likes it. It riles up his instincts a little. Like he’s being attacked or something.

Bucky goes back to his knees, mouth open and then he’s sucking on Steve’s knot, hot and wet, slow kisses, swipes of his tongue and then long pulls with suction that make him tremble and bring tears to his eyes. “Look at me,” Bucky orders. Steve looks down. Bucky strokes behind his balls.

“From now on, you’ll carry slick with you. Omega slick and lube so I can start to finger you open.”

“Really?” he asks, Bucky going blurry with tears. It feels like Bucky has asked him to marry him or something. He’s that happy about it.

“Of course.”

“Now come on and get down on your knees. I’m going to fuck your face,” he says, standing back up. He leans in again, another sharp bite and Steve hisses. “Play with your tits while you do it.”

It’s a blip in his submission, Bucky poking at his dominance or something. “I told you I don’t like that.”

“I heard you.”

Steve thinks about hitting him. He finally looks at himself in the mirror. His eye hurts. And the swelling is kicking in. He touches his cock, trying to support the knot. “Hey. Where should that hand be?”

Steve moans and presses closer to Bucky, head into his shoulder. “Stop. You’re making me crazy. I want to stay soft for you,” he says, not sure if that’s clear. 

Bucky’s hands go to his chest. “You will, baby. God, they’re so sweet. Go ahead now, I’m waiting,” he says, hands on Steve’s shoulders, urging him to the ground.

“Buck, you know I’ll do it. I just—” Bucky, the bastard, presses his cock into Steve’s mouth and groans. He thrusts forward, rudely, if Steve’s being honest, and he chokes. He pulls off and sits back on his heels. His head bangs the ledge of the sink.

“Fuck.”

“Open, sweet cheeks.”

“You fucking—”

Bucky presses his fingers into Steve’s mouth, urging his mouth open, replacing his fingers with his cock. His cock, which promptly leaks all over his lips. He swallows, shudders. He’s got a hand on his own cock now, stroking himself, revolted by the bitterness of his alpha’s come. And he hates being called sweet cheeks. Jesus.

“There you go. Look at me. Come on now,” Bucky growls and Steve looks up, sees Bucky and yeah, he’s pretty close to coming. “Open your mouth. You’re going to hold it. Don’t swallow.”

“No, I’m not,” he protests weakly. Bucky jerks himself and then he’s coming and Steve opens his mouth, gets plenty, Bucky resting the head of his cock on Steve’s bottom lip, pumping come with each glide of his hand as he bumps Steve’s chin.

Bucky finishes completely in his hand, a palm full of come. He’s breathing hard. “Up then.” Steve gets to his feet. “Look in the mirror. Watch me. I’m going to watch you. Need to see you now.”

Steve turns, braces himself. His giant cock and the bruised knot. The giant shiner on his eye. He almost swallows. There’s come on his chin and his shirt. His cheeks go pink. Bucky moves in close to him, makes sure his cock is between Steve’s cheeks. He isn’t sure if it should be a threat or not. It feels like security. It’s comfort and a promise.

Bucky slicks him up with his own come and goes straight for the knot, tiny movements under the knot and against his balls. It’s frustrating. He looks imploringly at Bucky in the mirror, begging to be allowed to spit or swallow. Begging for more friction. He offers his neck. Bucky smiles at him in the mirror.

“God, you’re perfect. You know it, don’t you? You have to. The things you let me do to you. Even now, you’re looking at me like you love it. All of it. I don’t want to hear you doubting yourself anymore. I don’t need anyone besides you. Sometimes you’re my big, strong alpha. Sometimes you’re the sweetest fucking omega. Whatever I want, you give me. And here I am, some asshole taking advantage of how much you love me.”

Steve shakes his head in denial.

Bucky laughs, squeezes under Steve’s knot, which he’s pretty sure is going to make him come but then Bucky loosens his grip and he groans at the loss. “It’s okay that we both know it, baby. You’re so sweet. Swallow my come, sweetheart. And then I’ll make you come, just like I want.”

Steve swallows. He tries to turn into Bucky, wanting to be held more than he wants to come. “Get up on the counter then,” Bucky orders, and he gets Steve up, stands between his legs and gives Steve a few long, kissing bites to his neck. They wind him up and each one could make him come.

“I’m going to—” he breathes, the first time. And Bucky stops, Steve groaning in frustration at being denied.

“So pretty, Steve,” he says, and then he’s doing it all over again.

Steve whimpers, hips rocking into the touch. “Yeah. I’m close,” he says, and Bucky stops again.

“Please, please let me,” he begs, trying to push his neck into Bucky’s mouth when he does it again.

“Good boy, Steve. Come for me.” And he bites down hard, Steve moaning loudly as he comes. Bucky lets Steve ride the crest of it, hand working Steve looser and looser as he gets more sensitive. Steve sighs in relief, snuggled up close, breathing him in and pressed in tight to his alpha.

Someone bangs on the door.

“Here’s your damned ice pack. You two are the worst,” Sam says, “I’m leaving it outside and going home. Steve, don’t die. Call me if you lose an eye. Actually, don’t call me if you lose an eye. You should have gone to medical instead of fucking in the locker room. My god. We’re trying to run a civilization here!”

They can hear him grumbling the entire way out of the locker room. “Well, at least now I don’t have to tell him,” Steve says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> of it. i'm still not convinced about the tone but i think it all holds together. Thank you so much to the people who commented. I definitely lost a lot of motivation and got pretty lost with the plot for a bit. that combined with how many people are not reading this story definitely made me a bit apathetic. But, it's monday, so here we go.


	10. Chapter 10

The next day he has therapy. The clock is ticking. It sounds like the clock they had in their first apartment back in Brooklyn. Dr. Berkley has given him paper and he’s been sitting there, staring at nothing for long enough that she says his name to get his attention.

“You seem distracted today.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Any particular reason?”

He finally looks at her, really tries to see how much she knows. “Bucky came back to me. He has some, maybe a lot, of his memories, he seems…fine. He’s… staying with me.”

“Congratulations. That’s amazing, Steve. Has it been difficult having him there?”

“I’ve wanted him with me since the moment he was gone. Well, no, I’ve wanted him with me since I was six years old.”

She smiles at him. It’s genuine. “Yes, but even getting what we’ve always wanted has problems. Life doesn’t stop when you get what you want. You still have to live with it and make room for it. In your case, that’s literally.” He’s waiting to feel defensive. He doesn’t.

“It can be tiring, having to watch where I am and think about where he is all the time. He’s an alpha and I come home and I have a flash of thinking there’s something dangerous happening because there’s the scent of alpha there. But, it’s Bucky and as soon as I realize, it’s better. I can let that go. We’re very cautious with each other.” Most of the time.

“That will get better. You’ve been in the army long enough to know that.”

He rubs a hand across his face and thinks about it. They were all separated out in basic training by gender and slowly they were moved closer and closer to each other, as their operations were mixed in. Omegas covered their scent as best they could and were given emergency salts thatgave off such a potent scent that no alpha wanted to be near them. Alphas took supplements that dulled their instincts and had neutralizing body sprays. They touched as little as possible. It worked. And yeah, everyone sort of got used to being more anxious and in close proximity to each other.

“Yeah….Back then it was rare for omegas to be in the military. They were usually paired with an alpha for protection’s sake. Bucky underwent training for that. He was steady enough and gentle enough that he could be trusted with an injured or scared omega in battle.” Yeah, that’s how amazing Bucky was. That’s how much he cared for omegas, the sort of devotion Steve should have gotten. It’s what he lost out on.

Without meaning to, he’s crying. He grabs the tissue from the box next to the chair. “I should have been an omega,” he confesses. “I wasn’t. My body never did what it was supposed to. And that was the ultimate betrayal. And then I got the serum and became an alpha. I remember the look on his face when he scented me and really accepted that this was how I would be from then on. He got drunk at camp. It was the only time he ever did.”

“You each felt like you lost the other,” she offers, quietly.

“He’s the love of my life. And it became clear that it was over and I was going to need to put that fantasy away and accept reality and I guess I intended to with Peggy. But, it was all very distant. Peggy and I both knew there was a good chance I wouldn’t make it out of the war. We had issues and I was not…. Being intimate was a challenge.It was hard to accept myself.”

“Do you accept yourself now?”

He shrugs. “I’m not changing. There’s no going back. No, I guess I haven’t. Which is ridiculous because I never even had it. I never actually was an omega. It was just… a dream.”

“I see a lot of people who don’t feel like their secondary gender fits who they are, Steve. We see people on tv, or have role models and relationships when we’re young, and when we finally present, it’s normal to feel like you lost something.”

He gets another tissue. “We _knew_ what I was going to be. We always knew Bucky was an alpha. He just was. It was no surprise when he presented. He presented at 15 and neither of us blinked. It was like confirmation that we were meant to be. We’d go out on the weekends and he’d buy me a drink. He’d hold the door open for me, and give me his coat. We’d look in shop windows or go through department stores and he’d joke that he’d only let me wear silk against my skin when I was his.”

Steve blushes. He should shut up now, but the relief of telling someone who isn’t going to judge him is unbelievable. He can’t shut up. “There were shops, too… that were for queer couples. I remember we stumbled into one once and we could barely speak. They made special undergarments for omega men to… to absorb release and we left there and Bucky had his hand on my back and it was hot, like our radiator. He walked me into an alley and it was the only time he really kissed me and let me feel it. How much he wanted me. That was… that was going to be _me_. He was going to buy me those things and I was going to be taken….” He shuts up. He blushes more. “And then I wasn’t an omega. Now, it’s like the ghost between us. I get dominant around him and defensive and I hate it.”

“Society has come a long way in terms of what is no longer taboo. It used to be illegal to be gay. It isn’t illegal for two alphas to be with each other. It isn’t illegal for an alpha to live as an omega or vice versa. And, what people do in their own homes or what makes them happy, really isn’t anyone else’s business beyond you and your partner. There are still those shops, Steve. But, they’re boutiques and they’re exclusive and they’re not illegal or hidden away anymore. Garments in silk and satin are made to accommodate knots. Some people might frown about that lifestyle, it is alternative, but you wouldn’t be the only one. Not by a long shot.”

She smiles at him and gets up, goes to her desk and pulls open a drawer. She pulls out a business card box and flips through it. She sets a few cards down, puts it back and comes over to him. “Here,” she holds them out and his hand is shaking. It’s terrifying and real and exposes him to accept these things. It’s a declaration of what he wants.

He grips the cards and puts them in his pocket. Can’t even look at them in front of her. “It’s going to be okay, Steve. And, you made it. The hour is up and you can leave finally,” she says, smiling at him. He gets to his feet, looks at the clock. Oh. “If you don’t want to go in to the shops, you can google them. Seamstress Cleo is practically a celebrity. She’s been interviewed by mainstream publications because her work is so beautiful. If you were going to look at one place, it should be that one. Her store is right off Fifth avenue and her windows are always beautiful. It’s art.”

_Art._

She says his name one more time. “What we discussed won’t be in the report. I do want you to feel free to talk to me and that aspect of your relationship isn’t something I feel necessary to report to Nick.”

“Thank you,” he says, and he means it. The door closes behind him. Art. That’s all he thinks as he goes downstairs. How can what she makes be art if it’s for something so alternative and shameful? Maybe his therapist is wrong. He goes into the men’s room and into a stall to look at the cards. Clothing, Seamstress Cleo and a support group for people with issues regarding their secondary gender.

He puts the cards away and goes on a long walk, unsurprised when he finds himself on Fifth avenue and hesitating at the street corner. He can see the sign protruding from the wall that says the shop name. His neck is burning and he feels like everyone must know who he is and what he’s doing and why. He glances at the shop, tries not to turn his head too much, is just going to walk by, and if he wants to look again, he can go a few blocks away and then turn back.

That’s the plan.

He stops in front of the store. He stares in the window. He might cry. The mannequin in the window is dressed in a silk robe. Lavender and with seed pearls and handmade lace. The cut is sexy, sophisticated and expensive. Those shoulders are broad. A lavender silk robe for men. And then there’s another mannequin wearing underpants that are like boy shorts but cream colored. They’re embroidered with peacock blue stitching and fuchsia flowers and somehow it looks perfect and sophisticated.

It’s beautiful. The man wearing it would be beautiful. And yet, he can see the extra stitching and the slight absorbent padding stitched into it…at the _back_. For an alpha’s release as his omega leaked during the day. But. The front of the underwear is reinforced and there’s a hint of an outline for an alpha’s knot. Absorbent at the back, but for an alpha. 

The shop is inviting, upscale and the glass door is heavily leaded so one can’t just peer inside and gawk at the customers. He wants to go inside. He steps inside and a tiny bell jingles. A woman with a tape measure is sitting at a small table with an alpha, both of them pouring over a book of fabric. It looks like she’s making notes.

She looks up at Steve and he goes tense, as if he might suddenly be thrown out or mocked. “Good afternoon. Mistress Cleo is just wrapping a package and will be right out. Please, feel free to look around.”

The alpha doesn’t even spare Steve a glance. A curtain pulls back and another alpha steps out, wearing only panties that are very conservative, with full coverage on. His nipples are pierced. The alpha who didn’t spare a glance at Steve turns his head to look, a smile on his face as he rakes a glance over him. The seamstress jumps up and goes over to him, putting a hand on his hip gently and turning him. Steve looks away, cheeks flushed in embarrassment and looks at the rack in front of him. He touches the fabric.

He can hear them talking. “I love it. You can barely see it at all and look at the back,” the alpha says and he must turn around, showing off his ass. Jealousy burns through him.

“You can’t hardly see where the fabric parts,” the other alpha says. “It’s lovely. Turn, angel. What about his knot?”

Steve is holding his breath, frozen still as he listens desperately.

“This is reinforced, which means there won’t be as much of a bulge and his member will stay in place. It’s also absorbent at the top for leakage but it’s _not_ designed for the wearer to have a full release. We can do that, but it gets bulky with the shaping. It’s an odor neutralizing fabric so he can go in public without concern after sex.” There’s a pause.

“Can I help you?” a woman asks him. She’s probably sixty and has glasses on, another tape measure and a friendly smile. “Are you buying for yourself or your young man?”

“I’m just looking,” he says.

“Well, why don’t I give you a little tour and then I’ll leave you alone.”

“Okay, sure.” Because he doesn’t think he can say no. She shows him night attire and underwear, chest supports and pretty things he hadn’t even realized were possible. There’s underwear that splits at the back so the alpha can have access to their partner, there’s ones with bows and there are even dresses and silk shorts and camisole top sets that are surprisingly plain. She reaches out to touch the fabric of a camisole. “This is more for everyday wear. It goes under normal clothing and just offers that little reminder, a little way to still be beautiful even if one is working. Alphas in finance and construction are the biggest purchasers of something like this.”

“Why?” he asks, not understanding the link.

She laughs softly. “Frankly, dear, I’m not quite sure. But, I’ve had a shop here for twenty years and it always seems to be that’s who brings it to the counter.” She shrugs. It’s non judgmental, dismissive and she carries on.

“Would you be bringing in your young man?”

“Um, I don’t know.”

“Well, if you want to have his input on anything, he’s more than welcome. We have good coffee and there are always cookies. I promise you he will feel at home.”

“Okay,” he says, and she wanders away.He wants to buy everything. He’s terrified to pick up a single thing. He turns around and leaves. He’s almost positive he hears the pierced alpha whisper the word ‘daddy’ and an answering growl. He makes it two blocks before he punches a wall.


	11. Chapter 11

Steve gets home and Bucky isn’t there. He checks his texts and sees one from Bucky saying he had to go in to chat with Fury. That’s okay. Steve has research to do. Other alphas are clearly getting it on with each other (and getting sexy lingerie to boot) so it’s definitely time to get it all figured out. He wants it. It’s intimidating, but who cares? As long as he gets Bucky, he’s happy. He wants everything with him.

He pulls up his phone and does a search: How does one alpha have sex with another alpha? How did anyone survive before google he wonders. Sure, he’slooked it up before but that was different. That was before he knew he could have Bucky. He’s looking at it differently, eagerly.

And yet.

It’s not easy. It’s very difficult and must be done with great care. There’s a lot of porn. He doesn’t mean to watch it. He isn’t sure how he feels about it when he does watch it. Like, yeah, he’s hard but he’s also nauseous because he’s never really thought he’d _do _this. When he’d looked before it was… well, it was distant and different.

Now he’s looking in earnest. He’s actually wondering if he could take Bucky’s cock inside him. He can tear if the alpha isn’t careful and he isn’t prepared enough.

And the sites make it very clear that preparation is his responsibility. It’s just too dangerous to leave it to the dominant alpha. He has to know his own body and what he can take and if there are times where it just isn’t working then that’s just how it is. They’d need to move on and try some other time. It’s very clear that Steve would need to make peace with that or he’ll wind up getting hurt.

He doesn’t know his own knot let alone his ass. Steve’s doomed. Which means they’d always be trying and finding Steve too tight and then having to do something else. Intercrural or blowjobs or hand jobs or… whatever.

There is no way Bucky would want to put up with that or _should_ have to put up with that. Steve pretending to be something he isn’t. And he’d need to have plugs and maybe even toys that would help him expand… and there were lots of concerns over an alpha’s knot. It just seemed like…why would anyone make the effort when it was so difficult? Maybe it’s impossible.

And yet, there were clearly some alpha’s who’d decided it was worth it and they were happy (some of them sounded downright smug) and vocal about how good it was to take their alpha and feel like an omega. To have their alpha moan and need them, come inside them.

Steve needs another few minutes to digest that information before he can look again. How does he feel about it, he asks himself, pretty sure he’s channeling Dr. Berkley.

Steve has always been… competitive. After the serum, he was hyper competitive. Before that, he was competitive, but his mind was writing checks his body couldn’t cash. Tell Steve he can’t do something and he’s going to try to do it. His fingers go back to touch himself, just curious, maybe a little exploratory. Not a big deal. It’s not a commitment or something.

He reads more information and apparently exploring in the shower with silicone lubricant is a good idea. Or even a bath. Okay. He could probably do that easily enough. He orders lube. He orders a starter dilation kit. It was there and it was a click of a button.

Unfortunately, that leads to a series of other products and he quickly becomes overwhelmed and closes the screen, but not before buying buying a lubricant with a numbing and muscle relaxing agent that is basically sold to alphas who want to get screwed by other alphas. It’s called Alpha Ease. It’s got a double meaning. It makes it easier to fuck and to get fucked.

That’s going to be another problem, of course. He opens up a new google tab and does another search: Alpha wants to submit to another alpha. When he’d looked before he’d been so ashamed, felt wrong for just thinking it. Now, looking again after deciding it’s something he wants, everything looks different.

If the internet is anything to go by, there are actually a hell of a lot of alphas who want to submit to other alphas. Instincts are the most common barrier. Familiarity and repeated submission will help train one up to make it easier, even automatic with a long term partner. There’s drugs that inhibit dominant responses, variations of things they were given in the army, and then there’s being forced into submission.

Forced Submission. He’s touching his cock at that idea. He just has to. And it can’t be that fucked up if it has a wikipedia page, can it? Apparently, it’s been going on since Roman times when alphas would fight each other in the gladiator ring. There comes a point where an alpha loses and he can be put into a submissive state where he will respond like an omega.

The ability to come from being bitten, to orgasm from penetration, it’s like a switch that gets flicked. Speculation is that it’s an evolutionary response to fighting and sexual assault. That alphas fought and lost to stronger alphas so frequently that they developed an ability to physically respond and have their bodies prepare for penetration. Anecdotally, an alpha can take cock easier if they’ve been forced into submission first.

But, that’s just the physical side of the equation. The emotional toll forced submission can cause, the trauma can be real if submission wasn’t wanted. That’s different than _consensual forced submission_. There’s a difference. Steve wants to submit. He remembers the pleasure that came from being forced into submission at the motel. How weak he felt. How soft and loved.

This was what he was trying to get from Bucky the other day. His instincts wanting Bucky to put him back in his place. Make him feel like his omega again.

There are lots of alphas who talk about submitting to their alpha successfully and they seem to think of this as the holy grail. They like feeling weak and soft. They like being receptive and hearing the way their alpha gets so dominant when they bring down another alpha. They swear it’s different than how an alpha takes an omega, but he can’t quite get a description on why.

Submissive alphas talk about how long their alphas keep them down for. How much trust it takes. That they might have weekends, entire vacations where they’re in 24/7 forced submission and how hard it is to come back to being an alpha after that. Some don’t. They claim to live in an omega headspace and go on and on about how much happier they are. Steve hates them all.

It’s just so much to think about. He’s going to close it down and his eyes land on information about submissive alphas popping a knot for their alpha. It’s a hell of a lot more relevant now and Steve leans closer to the computer without thinking about it.

The submissive alphas describe being jealous and desperate to pop a knot for their alpha. It’s a sign of how much they want them, something else to give up. Some like the pain of popping a knot and not getting release. It’s a kink and masochistic. A variation of orgasm denial and control.

If a submissive alpha does pop his knot, it does in fact make it more difficult to be penetrated on account of the way the anatomy works. Just like Bucky said. Which really just makes him wonder how Bucky knows. 

And there are alphas who engage in knot binding which suppresses it from popping at all. There’s pictures too. Some look like cock rings, looping over the balls and then a strip of convex, padded boning that presses hard into the shaft where the knot would form.

It’s very hard to come with it on. Torturous. Steve can’t look at it for too long.

It seems emasculating and wrong. He can’t imagine what that might be like, having his erections and knots so controlled. What would Bucky say to such a thing? Some of the submissive alphas say their partners like it. They even…oh. They might let it be a special reward if the submissive alpha has earned it. The dominant alpha might let the submissive alpha out of his bindings, get him to knot and give them release.

Well.

The fantasy is fully formed in his mind, as if it had been waiting there. Bucky telling Steve he’s been good. So good that he’s going to get hard now, so hard that he gets to pop his knot and his alpha will take care of it for him. Bucky would tell him how good he was, how hard he’d made Bucky by taking his denial so sweetly. Would Bucky draw it out? Tease him and keep him knotted and wanting until he begged to come?

He’s groping himself again.

Submissive alphas _like_ to think of their knot belonging to their alpha. It’s the ultimate symbol of being an alpha and the ability to suppress it or allow it out, giving that power away is equated with closeness and intimacy. It’s a sign of trust.

Which, yeah, okay. But isn’t it also totally romantic? What’s more of a grand romantic gesture then handing over the very definition of one’s masculinity to the love of your life and trusting that they’ll take care of you?

But, Steve’s instinctive response that it’s a grand, romantic gesture isn’t all that obvious on the forums he looks at. It’s mainly described as a kinky preference.

God, Steve has already tried to do this with Bucky a little bit. Told him the knot was his problem to take care of. Said he wanted to not be responsible for it. And Bucky had loved that. He’d been all over Steve, sweet and intense, hard as a rock. And there had been that bit of darkness there too. Controlling his knot for pleasure and pain.

There was one last search he wanted to do and it made his hands sweat. ‘Dominant daddy alpha sex and submissive boy omega’ he typed in. When they’d been growing up it was part of a traditional dynamic. It implied that the daddy took care of his boy. It was paternal and there were clear gender rolls. Any blue comics or magazines, dirty stories Steve ever saw had that dynamic between the men.

When they had been teenagers and had that golden year of expecting Steve to become Bucky’s omega, that was what they’d both wanted. They’d made little comments about it, trying to keep it a bit of a joke but right before Steve presented, after that night in the alley. He’d finally got to call Bucky daddy and he’d been called boy. Bucky would call him a good boy for doing the dishes and smack him on the ass, covering it up with a wink. Steve would make dinner for them and sit on Bucky’s lap. Bucky fed him and Steve said, ‘thank you, daddy’ after every bite. God, if his mother hadn’t come home he doesn’t know what they would have gotten up to. Steve presented about a week later.

Daddy/boy for male alpha/omega pairings was still a thing.

And it didn’t look like it had changed all that much except that it had become kinkier and more explicitly about sex rather than putting dinner on the table. People talked about the headspace that came from letting their daddy make decisions and take care of them, the relief in getting to trust them.

He was going to have to talk to Bucky. They were going to need to make some decisions. Now that Steve knew it was possible, it felt like there were things he might want. _Want?_ Steve thought maybe he _needed_ them. Things he wanted to try so badly that it scared him.

And, he desperately needs to come.

Bucky sends him a text saying he’ll be back in half an hour and Steve figures he better take a shower and get something cooking. The shower takes longer than he thought it would because he hadn’t gone straight in. He’d locked the bathroom door, found Bucky’s slick and taken off his clothes, got down on the floor and reached between his legs, working a finger inside himself. He had one inside himself fairly easily but the second one was just about impossible.

His cock got hard and he touched himself, letting the arousal build in hopes that it would help him get the second finger in, but stopped because it hurt. He was just so tense. He knew he was. He was tight as a fucking wire. He gave up, erection flagging in disappointment. He put the slick away and unlocked the bathroom door (he had the weird idea that it would somehow just raise questions of what Steve had been up to that required that level of privacy) and got into the shower.

He needs Bucky to bite him and get him relaxed so he can be open enough to get multiple fingers inside his ass. Steve tries to calm himself down.

He hears the front door open and close and then the bathroom door opens a crack. “Steve?”

“You’re not wrong.”

“And you’re not a comedian.”

He smiled. “Good comeback.”

“Thanks. Been saving it.”

Steve poked his head out the shower door. “What do you want?”

Bucky came further into the room, peering at Steve closely. “Just thought I’d see how you were. Therapy today, right?”

“Yeah.”

“The apartment smells sad or anxious or something. And, you look like you might have been a bit emotional today,” Bucky says, and it seems like it’s killing him to not wrap Steve up in his arms and coddle him. 

“I’m almost ready to get out. Thought I’d put dinner on,” Steve says.

“I’ll help. Be nice to do something with you after thinking of Hydra all day.” Steve promises to be done in a minute and when he gets out of the shower, it doesn’t even occur to him that his clothes are gone. His clothes that have the card for Seamstress Cleo. He’s not sure it would have occurred to him, except that he goes into the bedroom and sees it sitting on the nightstand. He puts on underwear and sweats, even a t-shirt as he thinks about what he’s going to say.

Bucky is in the kitchen, looking down at his phone and he can hear the laundry running. “Tell me about your day,” Steve says, and he goes to the fridge.

There’s a pause. Bucky is staring at his back. “Maybe we should go out to dinner,” Bucky suggests, carefully.

“I still won’t want to talk about it.” He mentally smacks himself. He does want to talk about it! Why is he his own worst enemy?

A lengthy pause this time. “Will you let me help you cook?”

“I’m not sure,” he’s suddenly thinking he needs to be left alone. He needs more time to think about everything. And what if Bucky doesn’t understand just how far Steve wants to take this thing?

“Is there… I’d really like to touch you, sweetheart.”

He should consent. That’s what alphas do. And he should turn around because he shouldn’t want someone at his back. “Please, don’t ask me. Or, tell me if you have to, but then just do it.” He hears Bucky’s steps, appreciates that he’s trying to be loud. Bucky’s metal hand settles on the counter next to him so Steve knows that he’s right there. The hand pulls off the counter and lands on Steve’s hip. His other hand is sliding over Steve’s stomach and Steve’s breath skitters out of him.

“Too much?” Bucky breathes into his shoulder.

“It’s a lot, but it’s making me feel better, too.”His hips push back against Bucky and Bucky breathes him in, kisses his collarbone through his shirt, gentle and up towards Steve’s neck. He licks Steve’s pulse point, asking a question.

“Can I kiss you here? Just a little,” Bucky asks, cajoling.

Steve nods, tilts his head and then Bucky’s got his lips on Steve’s neck, over where he’s marked Steve previously. Bucky’s hand slides down into Steve’s pants, cupping his balls in his hand. Steve is restless and wanting. “Harder,” he begs, and Bucky moans, sucks on the skin of Steve’s neck. His kisses are firm and mouth open. It still isn’t enough. There’s a hint of teeth and Steve’s hips fuck forward, he puts his own hand over Bucky’s, pulling it up, wanting Bucky to hold his shaft.

Bucky chuckles, dark and so fucking dominant. His hand goes up to where Steve wants it, wraps tight, so damned tight around his cock and he urges Steve’s hips back sohe can press against Steve’s ass. He doesn’t jerk Steve off or move in anyway. He just holds him tight and Steve gets harder and harder.

“Can I bite you?”

“Yeah,” he says, agreeing quickly. Teeth sink into his neck, slowly pressing into the flesh. “Please, Bucky. I want to be yours. Hard. I’m not fragile.”

Bucky releases the flesh of his neck, licks over the stinging marks and holds Steve loosely, forcibly trying to calm himself and slow down. “No, you’re not fragile,” he says slowly, “but, rougher might be triggering for your alpha instincts.”

“I want to try it. A little bit. You not being so careful of me. Don’t treat me like an alpha pretending to be an omega. I just… let me have it. The reality. I’d submit if you made me.”

“We can’t just play around with forced submission, Steve.”

“You… you know what it’s called?” Steve is practically trembling he’s so terrified of what Bucky might say next.

“I want you in any way that I can have you, Steve. But, some part of me will always think of you as my omega and wish we’d gotten to have that. Even when I didn’t remember anything, I knew that was who you were to me. You want to hear something crazy? I was sitting there talking to Fury about Hydra bases and I realized I was grateful, some part of me is anyway, that I went through all of that. What if we’d never had this? I never would have told you how I felt if it wasn’t for having no memory of the past. I don’t know if I ever would have acted on my feelings.”

“Why not?”

Bucky isn’t holding him as tightly anymore. It takes him a few breaths to speak again. “You deserved everything. To be healthy and have a real life instead of being stuck with me by default. And when you presented as a beta I was too young and stupid to know what to do. I just figured that was it. You didn’t want me anymore and it wasn’t appropriate anyway. I don’t know. But, things are different now. I saw the cards and… if this is what you want, at all, I will do whatever you want and be whatever you need. And if we trysomething and it doesn’t work, then that’s okay.”

He urges Steve to turn around, and Bucky’s eyes are wet. Steve kisses him, hands raising to cup Bucky’s face and swipe the tears away. “It’s okay. Don’t cry, honey.” He presses his forehead to Bucky’s.

“But, ultimately I just want you. If you don’t want to be an omega… I just want you.”

“I love you,” Steve says.

“I love you, too.”

“Bite me and make me submit so this is easier to talk about.”

Bucky blinks. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. I promise it will make it easier for me.”

Bucky hauls him closer, bites down on his neck. Steve struggles for a second and then goes lax. His shoulders slump and his head is suddenly on Bucky’s shoulder. “Better,” he murmurs. “I want to be treated like your omega. Just ignore my alpha instincts all together. They’ll lessen as time goes on.”

“Stevie,” he says, sounding a little terrified.

“Tell me, then. If I was your omega, how would tonight be different?” Steve asks. “Give me that, at least.”

Bucky kisses his mouth. “I’d order food for us because I’d want to stay beside you and have you take it easy. You’d be dressed comfortably, something cozy, my clothes or something I bought you and you’d sit on the couch and let me hold you. I’d feed you.”

Steve laughs.

“I know. It’s stupid. But, I would. And we’d watch something and then I’d take you to bed. Mark you up and make you stew in it. It would help you sleep.”

“Okay,” Steve says. “But, and that seems great, there are times when I would want that, but that kind of sounds like you’re just trying to be really careful. You don’t have to be rough or go all the way with it, but can’t I… can’t we have something?”

Bucky turns him back around, and Steve swears at the manhandling, stunned at how fast and hard Bucky’s got him turned around like he’s going to get fucked. Steve puts his hands on the counter. “Okay?” Bucky asks.

“I’m good. That’s, yeah, I like it.” His heart is beating fast and he’s definitely aroused.

“Will you tell me to slow down or stop if something is too much or you don’t like it?”

He nods. “I can do that.”

Bucky’s hand is suddenly sliding up his back, heel of his hand dragging up his neck in a way that makes him shiver and want to kick. The hand closes in his hair so he stays still and Bucky kisses his neck, open mouthed and wet, teeth scraping over him.

“I want to buy you something from that store. I looked it up online and I’ll go tomorrow if you’ll let me. Will you let me?”

Steve nods and puts a hand back, curving it around Bucky’s ass to his upper thigh, trying to pull him closer. “Yes. What would you get me?”

“I don’t know. You’d look good in everything. Is there something you really want? Do you want to go together?”

“Breeding briefs,” he says, going all in.

“Stevie,” he whispers. Steve has shocked him.

“It can be done. It takes preparation and everyone has to be careful, but if normal alphas can take an alpha cock then so could I. I can take it and do a good job. Be good. At it,” he says, sounding uncertain and undoubtedly like someone who _wouldn’t_ be any good at it. “Like I should have been.” God, it’s so embarrassing and humiliating that he wants it so much and yet….

“Steve Rogers, just a good omega boy who’s going to please his daddy?” Bucky asks, his voice carefully bland. And Steve wants to turn around and see his expression. If Bucky mocks him, he’ll lose his mind.

“Is that what you mean, Stevie?” He tries to turn, again. Bucky doesn’t let him and it’s cranking up his anxiety.

“Don’t fucking pretend we wouldn’t have been like that,” Steve growls.Bucky would have had him bent over and taking it all the time. He’d have come on Steve and in Steve and treated him like a well loved whore.

Maybe what Steve wants is impossible. What if getting a bit of what he wants is actually worse because he’ll always wonder how much he isn’t getting?

“Stevie. I’m not saying no to anything. I’m just thinking—”

Steve tries to walk away and Bucky stops him. He puts a hand on Steve’s bicep and Steve jerks out of his grip. “I do want you to give in to me, Steve.”

“Fuck you,” he says, wanting to cry. “You wouldn’t do it this way if I was an omega. This is why it won’t work. It’s a lie.”

Bucky grabs his arm and jerks him off balance, metal hand on the back of Steve’s neck. He pushes Steve to the counter. Steve goes with a growl. It’s a struggle to give in and let this happen even though he wants it.

“You can’t even give me a bit of time? Not even a little bit? Jesus, Steve. How do we know when it’s too much? How do I know if it’s not okay or you need time?”

“I’ll say. I’ll say… Valkyrie.”

“No you won’t. Choose another word.”

“I’ll say, Peggy.”

Bucky smacks him on the ass. Hard. “Try again.”

“Or what?”he asks. Bucky hits him again. Hard hits that jar him up the counter and make his dick get hard. He closes his eyes, knows he’s sinking into submission, feels easier in his skin already.

“Next time you’ll get the metal hand and I won’t stop until you cry. Choose a word.”

It takes Steve a minute to decide. He wants to go under. He wants to know how much it will hurt.He isn’t sure he likes the idea of a word all that much, anyway. “Okay!” he hauls in ragged breaths. “I’ve thought about it. I’ve got a word. It’s definitely Peggy.”

“Get down on your knees,” Bucky says, letting him go.

“Wait, what?” He doesn’t move.

“You’ve made me really fucking hard. I’m going to use your mouth now.”

“It’s gross. I’m not down enough yet. I don’t know if I can. What about the metal hand?” He licks his lips in anticipation.

“I want this more. Figure it out,” Bucky says, staring at Steve’s mouth. He undoes his pants, pulls down the zipper. He’s hard and leaking as he pulls his cock out.

“Buck, it isn’t a good idea.” His voice trembles. God, he isn’t even sure how much he means this or not. He’s excited but nervous, too.

“Sounds like you should have chosen a fucking safety word then, doesn’t it?”

“Ha ha. Well played,” Steve says, and he can feel his face getting hot. Bucky grabs Steve, somehow manages to get him on his knees and there’s Bucky’s cock, just this big thing that he both wants to turn away from and to get his mouth on. Why can’t he just feel _one_ thing? Why can’t Bucky wait until it’s easy for him?

And when is it going to be easy? “Fuck,” Steve says, and puts his hands on Bucky’s thighs, to keep him back, overwhelmed at the possibility that Bucky might just shove it into his mouth and his face. “Bucky, I just… I don’t know.”

“Tell me,” he says, and he uses one hand to make Steve look up at him, tilting his chin up. Steve tries to jerk his head to the side. He growls, is about to shove to his feet, do something to assert his own dominance when Bucky speaks, very quietly.

“Don’t you fucking dare, sweetheart. Aren’t you my good omega now?”

“Maybe sit down? Please? Maybe don’t start with such a demand. Give me a chance to choose that. I will.”

“No, that’s not how we’re going to do this. That isn’t what you want. Open.”

And then, his worst case scenario is coming true, Bucky’s hard cock is pressing against his lips. He opens his mouth, gets a spurt of pre-come on his tongue, for his troubles, and Bucky moans. “Suck, baby.”

He swallows carefully, unsure what to do or how he wants this to go. Everything smells like alpha arousal. Bucky’s scent is strong and any uncertainty his body had about whether or not it should get hard is resolved. He’s hard. Bucky puts his hands over Steve’s, laces their fingers together. Does this make him feel more in control, Steve wonders? Because Bucky can’t put hands on his head and fuck his face?

Then the base of his cock tingles, his knot filling. He pulls his hands out of Bucky’s and pulls off his cock, opens his own pants, ripping the button off in his haste. “Shit. No. Fuck, I’m popping my knot. Dammit.”

He gets a hand on himself, but it’s already swelling and it’s too late. There’s no stopping it. He squeezes anyway, delaying the inevitable agony of it all.

“Take care of me and then I’ll take care of you. Get my little omega all sorted out so you can sleep tonight.”

“If I stop right now, maybe it won’t go all the way.”

“Has that ever worked for you?” He’s getting swollen, drops his head to Bucky’s thigh. He shivers when Bucky touches his hair. “Relax, baby.”

“You fucking relax,” he says, but there isn’t any heat to it. “I just want to be close to you. I want to make you feel good. And I want to go to our bed and just stay there.” He turns and rubs his face on Bucky’s cock, swipes his tongue at the head.

“I want that, too. There you go,” Bucky says, like he’s proud of Steve. “Go on now. I think you want to suck my cock now, don’t you?”

His mouth opens and he sucks it in, tries to see how far into his mouth he can take it, lifts one hand to touch Bucky’s balls. Gentle touches that get him a spurt of come inhis mouth as gratitude. He swallows and pulls off, “Am I submitting now? Again?” he asks. It’s so uneven. He’s in and out of it, will fell anxious and defensive one minute and then hazy and needy the next, each touch and gesture ping ponging him around.

“Give me your hands, let’s see.”

The one hand is easy. But, the other hand is supporting his knot, trying to fight the losing battle of popping completely. He looks up at him, blinking tears. “Bucky?”

“That’s mine. I want you to pop that knot for me. I’ll make you feel so good, Steve. Are you going to let me take care of you?”

He lifts his hand and Bucky grabs it. Steve’s hips twitch miserably as his knot fills, straining for pressure. The cock is back at his mouth and he sucks until his jaw aches, until Bucky comes, pulling out after the first few spurts and covering Steve’s face. Bucky takes a minute, wipes the come up with his finger and feeds it to Steve, rubs some of it into his skin, all around his nipples and into his neck which makes him lose his fucking mind.

He can’t hardly swallow when Bucky touches him like that, and it dredges up his dominant instincts, makes him jerk his hand out of Bucky’s grip and touch himself. Bucky pulls away from him. Steve whimpers, alone and hard. He’s only a few feet away but it feels like so much more.

“Bucky?”

“Come on now.” He sits in a chair, gets Steve in his lap and slicks him up. Steve kisses him frantically, nipping his bottom lip, pressing kisses to Bucky’s jaw and his neck as Bucky strokes him over and over again, driving him insane. He’s thrusting into the touches, shaking and falling apart while Bucky hushes him and makes him squirm.

“Tell me you’re my omega, Steve.”

“I’m your omega,” he whispers.

“Like you mean it.”

“I’m… I’m your omega. You’re my alpha. God, I have to come. Can’t I? Please?”

“There’s my perfect boy. You’re down now, aren’t you?”

He is. He can feel it now. That everything is calm and nice. Bucky will take care of him. “You decide, Buck.”

“I love you, Steve. I do, baby. I’m going to make you come now. Bury your face in my neck, go ahead and give me a claiming bite too.”

He obeys, nose rubbing up and down the skin, tongue licking him. Bucky works the knot and he trembles on the edge. He opens his mouth to bite, teeth pressing into Bucky’s skin. It’s good but it’s not enough. He goes harder. There’s a sharp inhale from Bucky. His grip on Steve’s cock faltering.

Steve stops. “It’s okay. Thank you, alpha. Bite me instead. Please?” He looks Bucky in the eye, wanting him to know that it is actually fine with him to not bite Bucky. He offers his neck.

“Stevie. You’re so beautiful. You take suchgood care of me,” he says, and Steve whimpers. “That’s what I want. Let me take care of you for a change.”

Bucky bites him, claiming him so hard he comes, unable to move or speak for long minutes after.Bucky holds him.

“Stevie?”

“Um, yeah?”

“That was really fucking good for me. I wanted you to bite me. I was okay with it or I wouldn’t have offered.”

He blushes, squeezes tighter. “I know. I liked it, but I like you biting me more.”

“Do you know what that means, baby? He shakes his head. He doesn’t.

“You’re perfect. That’s all.”

“Oh. Well,yeah. I could have told you that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope there aren't any weird contradictions or things that overlap too much or something like that. if there's anything egregious please let me know. comments always welcome, encouraged and prayed for. I try to respond. It's possible I over respond. OMG, what if it's off-putting? Well, feel free to comment and I don't have to respond. Sigh. 
> 
> PS- yeah, I know. The shop. It will happen.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! I was on vacation and busy with life and health stuff but am now back and slowly getting back into the writing groove. I’m so grateful for comments and have gotten behind on responding. I’m sorry!
> 
> I removed the original endnote and we can all hope this story will continue to limp along.

Bucky has been sitting in the coffee shop down the street from Seamstress Cleo’s Boutique for an hour, contemplating the best way to approach the whole situation when he gets tapped on the shoulder. He’s taken by surprise. He doesn’t know when the last time was that happened. Maybe it’s never happened. He jolts and spills cold coffee on his jeans.

_Shit._

There’s a middle aged woman looking down at him. “I’m sorry,” she says, smiling. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Has anyone ever told you that you look like Bucky Barnes?”

“What?” This is not a good response. If he was still the Winter Soldier, bad things would happen to him for being so distracted and unprepared.

She sits down. Bucky puts a hand on his waist, reassuring himself he has a knife there. Easy to hand. She’s a grandmother for Christ’s sakes, he thinks, and does a quick sweep of the room anyway.

“My name is Seamstress Cleo. I have a shop over there, where you seem to be staring rather intensely. I’m fairly certain there was a young man in my shop just yesterday that you might know.”

“Um,” he says, and she chuckles.

“I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. In my line of work there is a lot of gossip. A favorite past time seems to be guessing which celebrities might be in dynamically interesting relationships. Two alphas, two omegas, that sort of thing.” She waits. He waits longer.

She shrugs. “This is the coffee shop my girls and I frequent. One of them was here half an hour ago and said you were staring at the shop. I came to get a latte and you’re still here. Would you like to come over? We have cookies.”

“He loved your shop,” Bucky says.

She smiles. “I’m glad. He seems like a very nice young man. Few people deserve a chance at happiness as much as you two do.”

Bucky has nothing to say to that. He nods. It’s awkward. She doesn’t seem to mind.

“We close the shop at six and frequently have clients that prefer privacy between six and seven. Discretion is very important.”

“We should do that,” he says. He clears his throat. “Thank you for… approaching.”

“Good. My granddaughter was saved by your omega when aliens invaded New York. Anything he likes or you like for him, it would be my honor to—”

“We have money,” he says. They both have plenty of money and even if that was an issue, he wants to spend the money on Steve. Especially for this. It feels important.

She nods, takes a sip of her drink.

“I would like to pay for it,” he says. “But, thank you.”

She chuckles. “I imagine you would. Is he comfortable being addressed as an omega?”

“I don’t know,” he says, carefully.

She waves a hand at him like it isn’t a big deal. “We can play it by ear,” she says.

“I was going to visit your shop. I was just… waiting.” Being a coward, he doesn’t say. Likely, she knows.

“First time in a shop like mine?”

“I think so. My memory isn’t great. It’s possible we went to one before… everything.”

“Ah. Well, in that case, would you like a few pointers?” she asks. It isn’t really a question. He thinks she’s going to tell him whether he’s ready to hear it or not. He nods.

“Alpha’s are very tactile and demonstrative but in alpha/alpha pairings it’s typically even more exacerbated. It’s quite common for one or both alphas to be overcome emotionally in my shop. Particularly the first time one visits. Typically, you would hand over your method of payment and home address at the beginningof the visit so that we can ring up your purchases and deliver them to you the next day if necessary. You should expect him to be emotional and perhaps have dinner delivered or prepared before you come to the shop. Some form of release is typical, it really can’t be helped, but I must insist that any items of clothing thatyou do not want to purchase should be outside the room first. You can just throw them out the door, we’ll take care of it. If things get out of hand, we will charge a cleaning fee. And, as much as I appreciate a grand romance, I do not waive a cleaning fee.”

Bucky can’t help but chuckle. “Yes, ma’am. Steve is rather shy. I don’t think you’ll need to worry about that.” But, he isn’t sure of it.

“Good, good!” she says, clapping her hands together.

“When would be a good time?” he asks.

“Tonight?”

Bucky nods, sharply. “You are a very nice woman. Let me know if anyone bothers you.”

“The number of alphas who volunteer to beat people up for me would shock you.”

“I’m not easily shocked.”

“Good. Remember that when your young man starts crying,” she says, as if it’s a guarantee.

“Why would he cry?” he asks.

“Because he is an omega and in my shop, he will finally get to feel like one. It’s a very emotional experience. I’ve owned that shop for forty years and I still get teary-eyed half the time.”

“I appreciate that, but I’m sure we’ll be fine.” There’s a good chance Steve will bawl like a baby but there’s no need to fess up to it.

She looks at him like he’s an idiot. “Have you ever read a romance novel? One of those bodice rippers where the big, strong alpha sweeps the delicate omega off her feet?”

“No.”

“It shows. Do you both a favor and read one. He’s an omega. Treat him like one. You cannot be old fashioned enough. It’s always the dominant alpha that gets out of hand and incurs a cleaning fee. I assure you.”She wags a finger at him and leaves.

Bucky goes to the book shop next.

***

Bucky knows how to speed-read. After a few hours, there’s a small stack of romance novels sitting beside him as he takes up space in the middle of an aisle. He isn’t sure if he’s learned anything or not.

He pulls out his phone and texts Sam. They obviously don’t know each other all that well, but Sam is Steve’s friend and he’s talked to him over the last few days, while he’s been in dealing with Fury and the Hydra bases. Besides, there isn’t anyone else to ask.

“What do you know about romance?” he texts.

“Everything.” Is the almost instantaneous response. It’s so annoyingly unhelpful that he puts his phone away. Five minutes later it rings.

“What?” Bucky demands.

“You reached out to _me_.”

“I changed my mind.”

Sam sighs, long suffering. “I probably don’t want to know anyway.”

“Do betas like romance?” he asks.

“That’s the stupidest question anyone has ever asked me.”

Bucky hangs up the phone. It rings again. Bucky sighs, moves the books to the side and heads out. He picks up the phone when he’s outside. “What do you do ifyou want someone to know you care about them? A lot. And does it matter depending upon their gender?”

“I may regret asking this question, but how would you feel if someone gave you flowers?”

He thinks about it. “I wouldn’t care.”

“Well, I would be happy about it. Most people would. I thought you were a ladies man back in the day?”

He almost says, ‘but Steve is an alpha.’ That is an inappropriate thing to say. If he said that in front of Steve he’d hurt Steve’s feelings. So doesn’t that make everything easy? “I understand now. This was not unhelpful.”

“I’ll take it. You’re welcome.”

He hangs up the phone, picks up dinner for after they go to the shop and takes it home to Steve. Steve is watching TV when he walks in the door. And doing push ups. There isn’t a lot of time before they need to leave.

“How would you feel about having sex in public?” he asks. Because Steve is a prude and sex in public is pretty out there. Bucky doesn’t particularly want to have sex in public, not that anyone is asking him.

“Not good. Why?”

“What about, in a room, but other people know?”

“You mean like yesterday at the gym?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“In front of our friends?”

“No. Strangers.”

“Why?”

“I’m curious. Does it make it better if it’s people you consider friends?”

Steve stops doing push ups. “No, I don’t think it does. Both seem bad.”

Bucky goes over and sits on the couch, legs spread. He gestures to Steve, one fingered, to come closer. Steve blushes, looks at the bulge in Bucky’s pants and comes closer. Bucky leans forward to pull him in and kiss him. “I missed you. How is my pretty omega?” he asks, brushing his fingers over Steve’s chest. 

Steve hauls in a breath, muscles flexing and relaxing. “I’m fine,” he finally says. Steve puts his hands on Bucky’s thighs, running them up and down the muscles. He swallows, peers up at Bucky from under his lashes. “How, um, how’s my alpha?”

“Now that I’m with you? Good. I thought about you a lot.”

“Oh. I thought about you, too,” he says, shyly, shifting on the floor, almost restless. Bucky rubs his thumb across Steve’s bottom lip and Steve closes his eyes, a moment passes and he opens his mouth, takes the finger into his mouth.

“Good girl,” he says. Steve freezes, gives him another little look and then presses into Bucky’s hand like a kitten. “We’re going to Seamstress Cleo’s tonight. After the shop has closed. We’ll see the options and get a few things.”

“Okay,” he whispers. He isn’t looking at Bucky at all.

“What are you thinking?”

“I don’t know.”

“She thinks we might get up to things that require payment of a cleaning fee.”

“And that’s why you were asking me?”

Bucky nods. “I want you comfortable.”

“I’d prefer to be at home. Especially if I’m….”

“Revealed?”

“Maybe. Sounds overdramatic, but maybe.”

“I want to suppress your knot for the night.” It’s a risk so he watches Steve closely.

“How?”

“I bought you something. It’s in daddy’s jacket pocket,” he says, patting his chest outside of his leather jacket. “Be a good girl and get your present.”

Steve’s nostrils flare as he takes a big breath and lets it out slowly. Bucky reaches for him, hand at the back of his neck. He squeezes and Steve closes his eyes. He’s trembling visibly. “Bucky.”

“Call me daddy or you’ll get a spanking. I don’t care where we are or who is there tonight. Ifyou call me anything other than daddy, I’ll pull you over my lap and give you ten. Do you understand?”

Steve swallows hard. “Yes, daddy.”

“My good little omega. Come up here and let’s get your neck all marked up before we go out.”

“Bucky, this is a lot,” he whispers.

“Over my lap, babydoll.” Before the book store he might have hesitated, been more careful and less assertive, trying to think about how he’d feel. The romance novels contra-indicate all of that. He should put Steve in his place, make him feel secure and desired. Protected, even from himself. Considering Steve is between his legs and so accepting, he’s thinking the books are right.

“What? No. You can’t spank me,” he says, but it’s not that certain.

“I’ll give you ten more for backtalk or if you’re moving too slow. Come on now,” he says.

Steve looks into Bucky’s eyes, his pupils blown wide and his cheeks all flushed. There’s no protest. He doesn’t look angry or even annoyed. He’s just uncertain. Omegas do not like an uncertain alpha and they do not like to feel uncertain, either.

“You’re already at 20. Now or you’ll get another ten.”

Steve stands up. Bucky can see how hard he is, feels it against his thigh as Steve lays down. He’s breathing a little quickly but that’s the only sign of his anxiety.

“There you go. Good girl. I’ll count.”

“Daddy, should I take my pants down?” he asks, voice rough.

“Not this time, baby. I want to be inside you too much. If I see that little hole winking at me we’ll never get out of here.” His scent changes, the way he holds himself relaxes. Bucky has said exactly what Steve wanted him to. This is going well.

“Daddy,” Steve whispers, sweet as anything. “I’m sorry I didn’t move fast enough.”

“Oh, my good girl. I know you are. I don’t want to hurt you, baby. Especially not when we’re going to go out. Do you think I should only do 10?”

“I don’t know,” he says, tremulously.

“Let’s do ten and see where you are.” Steve risks a glance at Bucky and then buries his head in his arms. Bucky squeezes Steve’s ass, enjoying every moment of it, truth be told. He spanks him once and Steve’s breath hitches. He spanks the other side and then stops, rubbing the flesh. He’s being rather gentle and Steve is lying there docile as anything. He spanks him and gets the ten over with, puts a hand on Steve’s neck. He squeezes. Steve whimpers.

“How’s my sweet omega now?” Bucky asks, even though he knows the answer. Steve is so pliant now, maybe more than he’s ever been. His breathing is even and as he looks at Bucky over his shoulder, his smile is downright peaceful.

“I’m good, daddy.”

“You are, baby, I know it. Get on my lap and give me a kiss. I don’t want to spank my sweet omega anymore.” He rubs his hand gently over Steve’s bottom and Steve pushes into the touch and then shifts back, straddling Bucky and kissing him. “We’re going to have to go, sweetheart. Get into my pocket now and let’s get you fixed up.”

Steve reaches into Bucky’s coat and pulls out the knot suppressant Bucky bought at a sex shop on the way home. “Open your pants, come on, babydoll.”

Steve gets them open, practically fumbling, his cock long and hard in his underwear. Steve pulls the fabric down and eases his cock out, careful not to touch too much in case he pops his knot. Bucky doesn’t waste time, is kind of surprised it hasn’t already happened. He eases the ring over the shaft and secures it, strategic padding securely tied into place. It presses down on the area hard enough to keep his knot from filling. But, it’s a two piece device, the other component a more standard cock ring, the cock needing to stay hard the whole time in order to keep the restrictor in place.

Steve gasps when Bucky gets it on him, presses close against him and grinds on his lap. “Daddy, I can’t go out like this.”

“Course you can, sweetheart. You’re just going to be with me, I’ll keep you close and keep you safe.”

“I can… you’ll keep me safe?” he asks, kissing Bucky’s neck.

“That’s right. Your alpha will keep you safe.”

“Daddy. Are you…. Are you really going to keep me hard all night and take care of me?”

“I am. And it’s okay if it’s difficult. It’s okay to need kisses and hugs. To be reassured. You’re going to make me so happy. I’m so proud to have you as my omega, baby. Tilt your head now, let’s get you all marked up.”

Steve offers his neck instantly and Bucky sucks a bruise into his skin first, has to pull back and put his head against the couch for a minute, so aroused he just wants to fuck Steve. “Daddy?”

“Just a second, sweetheart. You’re too sweet. You’ve got me so hard, baby.”

“Let me take care of you,” he whispers.

“What a good omega you are for offering. I’m going to come with my cock between those cheeks of yours. We’ll get my seed all rubbed into you and then we’ll go.”

Steve stands, cock red and straining. He sways and Bucky gets to his feet, grabbing him. “Fuck, I’m out of it.”

“Are you okay?”

“It’s good. It’s really, really good. Fuck, I feel like I’m in a dream or something. You’re just… you’re everything, daddy. You’re my alpha and I feel it.”His hand hovers over his cock. “This makes a difference too. I am yours,” he says, kissing Bucky’s neck. 

“Yes, you are. Go ahead and bend over the couch instead. Let’s keep that sweet cock untouched as long as we can. It’s a big enough night as it is.”

Steve nods. Gets into position. Bucky gets behind him, hands on his hips, slips his cock between Steve’s cheeks and thrusts quick and easy. He comes as fast as he can, the goal is to get the hell out of the house, after all. He spurts all over Steve’s back and rubs it into him, spares a few swipes for Steve’s hole. He presses come into the tight ring and Steve whimpers and shuffles his feet apart.

“Here you go, baby. You’ll get more later,” he says, and presses his finger into him.

“Oh, god. Daddy. Thank you.”

“I’m gonna keep you so wet and loose for me, baby. Would you like that?”

Steve is quiet. Just breathing. Bucky tucks another fingerful of come into his hole and lets Steve up. Steve who finds a way to back Bucky up into the wall and nuzzle into him. “Yeah. That’s exactly what I want, daddy.”

“Good.” He swallows. Steve is so warm and sweet, so damned perfect as he kisses Bucky’s neck. “Fuck, Steve. Stop or I’ll have to have you. We don’t have time,” he murmurs, snaking his hand down to Steve’s ass, gripping him between his cheeks.

“Daddy,” he says, and goes still, trembling slightly, both of them so riled up they don’t want to risk moving yet.

“All I can think is that we almost didn’t have this,” Bucky says. What a terrifying thought. What a fucking waste that would have been. “Let me get the other side of your neck, real quick and then you’ll be just how I want you.”

“Thank you, fuck, thank you so much, daddy.” Bucky sucks a mark into his skin and bites him until Steve cries out.

Now they can go. 

***

The cold air makes him shiver. It seeps into him and pushes the haze of lust and submission to the side. Bucky’s breath fogs in front of him on the stoop and he takes his scarf off and puts it around Steve’s neck. “Are you going to be warm enough?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good. Come on.”

Bucky ordered an über to take them, not wanting to drive and figuring it was best to keep all his attention on Steve. This is a big deal for him, his first night out in a very submissive headspace, being treated like an omega. He’s feeling protective of him. They get into the car and Steve leans closer, puts his legs over Bucky’s lap and rests his head on his shoulder. Bucky gives the address and Steve sighs against his neck.

“I’m so proud of you, Steve. I love that you’re willing to trust me with taking care of you. I want the night to be good for you.”

“I know. I feel it.”

“Yeah?”

He makes a hmm of approval. When they get out of the car Steve is moving slowly still, perfectly content to let Bucky direct him. “I’m excited,” Steve says.

“Me too. Well, I’m a little concerned that I’ll buy out the shop, but it will be worth it. Everything will look so fucking good on you, Steve. I want something pink like your nipples after I play with them and something the same color as your eyes.” Both things that have nothing to do with the serum.

Steve gives him a look from under his lashes, biting his lip. They go into the shop and it’s only Cleo. She tells them to look around and locks the door behind them, asks if they need anything and points out a few items before disappearing to the back for just a minute. “Shout if you need something,” she says.

“Oh. Here,” Bucky says, and gets out his wallet. He hands over his credit card. She winks at him. He’s done right. He puts his hand on Steve’s ass, guiding him further into the store.

“What do you think, baby? Should we both pick out a few things and you can try them on for me?”

“Yes, daddy,” he whispers, and takes a step away from Bucky, his smile almost nervous. Bucky turns away from him, decides to start at the other end, hoping that will give Steve the chance to look at what he wants. Bucky is pretty sure it’s the right thing to do. He wouldn’t want someone standing over him telling him what to wear. This is a good compromise. Steve will make a few choices, he will too and….

The store is very quiet.

He shifts so he can see Steve. Steve who is standing still, almost frozen, right where Bucky left him. He isn’t excitedly shopping. This isn’t going how it’s supposed to.

Steve doesn’t want to do this on his own. He’s treating Steve like an alpha. Between the romances he read, Cleo’s warning to be very traditional and his own instincts, it’s time to behave differently.

He goes back over to him, stopping at a table covered with lace underwear. “Come here, baby. What color do you like?”

Steve startles. Turns to look at him, stares around the shop like he isn’t sure how he got there.

“Bucky, we can go, if you want.”

Fuck. Why did he tell Steve he’d spank him if he didn’t call him daddy the whole time? Wasn’t this bound to happen? “Stevie. Come here,” he orders.

Steve blinks at him. The reality of what he’s said sinks in. “Bucky, no.”

“That’s 20.” Once upon a time, it wasn’t uncommon to see an alpha correcting his omega in the street. It’s less common now, but most places have a room set aside so an alpha can settle his omega if he needs to. If they’re too anxious.

“I can’t do that,” Steve says, looking back to where Seamstress Cleo disappeared to.

“Then hopefully you’ll have learned a valuable lesson here tonight. Bend over the counter.”

“Daddy?” he asks, tears filling his eyes.

“Come on. You’ll be happier for it and then I’ll be sweet to you. We’ll get you some pretty things and take you on home.”

Steve puts a hand up to his neck, pressing on the bites. “That’s right. Come on now,” he says. Steve goes pink all over and comes over to him, standing really close, head titled the faintest amount. Bucky leans in and kisses his jaw, slides down to his neck and flicks his tongue over the marks. He palms Steve through his pants. “You still nice and hard for me?”

“It hurts, daddy. Maybe we could… here?”

“I don’t know. Let’s get this out of the way. We’re going to try to wait until we get home.”

“Daddy, I don’t care. I need you.”

“Sweetheart. You might tomorrow. Come on now.” 

Steve goes over to the counter and puts his head on his arms. Bucky spanks him. Gives him the 20 fairly quickly and without lengthy pauses. It’s corrective, not arousing. And it’s not why they’re here. He doesn’t hit him hard, it’s the act that’s important. Him submitting.

When Steve gets back up there’s a damp spot on his pants and he touches where his knot would pop. “Shh, you’re okay,” Bucky says, and holds him for a few long moments. “Come look at the panties with me,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of Steve’s head. Steve nods in agreement and puts his arms around Bucky, letting him lead him to the table. It’s at that point that Cleo comes back. She makes no comment of what just occurred but tells them what size Steve would need and explains the cut of the panties.

“We’ll need breeding briefs,” Bucky says, and he hears Steve inhale.

“Of course,” she says, and leads them to a wall with undergarments of all colors. She takes a pair down and explains the fabric, how it’s odor neutralizing and absorbent, the area for Steve’s knot if that’s an issue.

“I’ll be suppressing my knot,” Steve says, quietly. It’s the first thing he’s said and Bucky rubs a hand down his back reassuringly. Good. That’s exactly what he wants Steve to do and the fact that Steve is suggesting it, wants it to, is reassuring.

She takes that comment in stride, too, and they pick out a few and get them in the dressing room. Lingerie is next. Silk and satin, lace edged nighties, with a split up the side. Steve chooses one that’s more tunic like, except there are long slits that down the sides and the arms to allow access to Steve’s chest.

It will go to mid-thigh and has a pleat or two strategically placed to make the fabric drape in a way that Steve’s cock is less visible. “I like that,” Bucky agrees.

It goes into the dressing room.

There’s a matching silk robe but Steve sees one that’s black and has red lace. He looks at it and back at Bucky, blushing.

“Is that the one, sweetheart?”

“Could you… can you add something to it? Embroidery?” Steve asks, his cheeks pink.

“Of course,” she says, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world.

“Is it weird if I get a silver star on it?”

“You’re trying to Winter Soldier your robe?” Bucky asks, amused.

“Is that… bad?”

“No. It’s cute. I think.”

Steve’s visibly relieved. “I think this is all I need for right now.”

“We can come back whenever you want. Do you want to try things on or just buy them?” Bucky asks.

Steve looks almost grateful. “I want to try them on at home, daddy.”

“Then we’ll just take everything wrapped up, please.”

She gets everything to the counter, charged and wrapped in tissue while Bucky takes a seat on the couch, Steve perched on his lap. “I want to go home so you can… whatever you want.”

“What a sweet little omega you are,” Bucky whispers, kissing him. His hand settles gently on Steve’s cock.

“Not that little.”

“My very substantial omega.”

Steve laughs. “I’m okay with that.”

“Are you?” Bucky asks, tilting his head and catching Steve’s eye. “Because I am. I get to be here with you, free, you’re healthy and we get to be together. I get my omega? Jesus, Steve. I don’t want anything else.”

Steve doesn’t say anything. There’s a lump in his throat too big to talk around. Bucky touches his hair, kind of like he’s fixing it in place but really it’s just to fuss over him and stare. Steve knows. “What about sex?”

“We’re having sex.”

Steve looks at him balefully.

Bucky shrugs. “You’re the one who always wants more. Who thinks whatever you have to give isn’t good enough. There isn’t anyone else in the world who puts that kind of weight on themselves. If we go home and we have sex, will you be content?”

“I don’t know. I think so. I mean, what else is there?”

Bucky shrugs. “You’re like one of those nut jobs who climbs Everest. You’re a hundred feet from the top and you won’t turn around even though that’s what kills everyone.”

“Having sex isn’t the same as Everest.”

“They’re obsessed. You’re obsessed. All the other shit is meaningless that they do to get to that point. It’s the ultimate success or failure. The money needed, the training, the acclimatizing, getting there, getting back. That’s all useless if they don’t hit the arbitrary goal of touching the exact right spot. It’s kind of like you.”

“But… you want it too. You make it sound like it’s me and I’m a freak or something.” Steve says, crossing his arms.

“Not a freak. Just…. You’re putting a lot of emphasis on penetration. Your sense of validation and if it doesn’t happen or it’s really bad then where does that leave us?”

“Us? Well, I’ll be the failure.”

“No. It’s us. This is us. You’re not a failure.”

“I don’t want to have this conversation. This was going really well for me. I can’t believe you,” Steve says, and he walks out the door.

“Fuck.” Bucky gets the bag from Seamstress Cleo and walks outside, sees Steve across the street leaning against the wall. He jogs over to him. Steve looks up, watches him approach.

“I think you can win every argument if you find a way to run towards me.”

“What?” he asks, not sure he heard him right.

“You look good and I have a bit of soft spot for you coming after me looking a little murderous.”

“Enough of a soft spot to forgive me for being an asshole?”

“You’re not. I know what you’re trying to say,” Steve says, sounding a little annoyed still. Bucky looks around them and sees no one, takes him where it’s a bit darker. “What are you doing?”

“I want to take that contraption off of you. Seems… maybe not quite right now.”

Steve sighs, reaches into his pocket and pulls it out. He hands it over. “I wasn’t hard enough when I came out of the shop and the thing slipped a bit so I took it off.”

Bucky shrugs. “Maybe it’s best for home. Or maybe it just doesn’t work. You want to walk for a bit and then get a cab?” he asks, kissing him gently.

“You don’t care that I took it off?”

“It didn’t work. So what?”

“You didn’t used to be this easygoing.” 

Bucky opens his mouth and closes it again. “Come on,” he says, holding out his hand.

Steve doesn’t move. “What were you going to say?”

“I was going to say it’s a lot easier to be easygoing when one doesn’t have any problems, but I kind of thought that might make me sound like I was trying to make a pointed comment. And, I’m not. It’s just how I feel. I’m so happy to have you that I just don’t give a fuck about anything else.You’re everything to me, Steve.”

Steve pulls him closer. “I love you. I love you so fucking much. I want to give you everything because I feel like you deserve it and also because I just want to. Selfishly, the idea of you being inside me, coming inside me, enjoying me that way….” He gets choked up again. Has to swallow first. “I want it. I’ll try to not get hung up on it but if it doesn’t work… I think that will be hard for me.”

“Okay. I know, sweetheart. I know. Come on, let’s go home.”


	13. Chapter 13

Bucky takes Steve’s hand and pulls him along with him, walking slowly down the street. He lifts Steve’s hand to his mouth and kisses it idly, turns it over and kisses his palm and his wrist. Anyone could see.

It shouldn’t feel as good as it does. Steve’s hard again in no time. Bucky puts an arm around him, just like he used to, careless and heavy, that rough pull closer and Steve sways into it. Bucky stops, there in the middle of the fucking sidewalk, looking at him with that cocky grin, just like he used to and kisses him, hauls him close, puts a hand on Steve’s ass and doesn’t stop until Steve pulls back, gasping. “Stop or I’ll knot,” he whispers.

“Okay, come on, baby.” He gets them moving down the street. “What’s all your research been telling you about me fucking you if you knot?”

There’s a tingle of warning in his shaft. Just Bucky talking about fucking him is enough to shove him over. “Give me a second,” he says, and tries to distract himself with anything else. The people who pass them, the storefronts and the cars. All of Steve’s attention is shoved at other things as he resolutely ignores his cock and the feel of Bucky, hungry and aroused beside him.

It isn’t working. He knows that. His balls are heavy and full, his cock aches dully and a little more touching is going to be it for him, he’ll be knotted and stuck walking down the street, twenty minutes from home. It will be unbearable. He stops, almost defeated about the whole thing.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I’m just thinking,”he says, not making eye contact.

“No,” Bucky says, and reaches for him.

Steve laughs. “No? I can’t _think_?”

“Not if it stops you moving,”he says, and pulls him close, presses up against him. “I have to get you home.”

“Buck,” he says.

“Oh, that’s a damned shame,”he whispers, kissing along Steve’s jaw. “I think that’s twenty more.”

He wraps his arms around him, grinds close, shoving his erection against Bucky’s, desperate for pressure against his knot which has, of course, popped. He shakes in Bucky’s arms, and somehow Bucky gets a cab, gets them in it and Bucky is kissing him hungrily. There’s fumbling in Bucky’s pocket and Steve opens his eyes just to see bills flying over the front seat, raining down next to the driver as Bucky tells him the address and then turns his attention to Steve.

“I want to fuck you so bad, baby,” he whispers, just loud enough for Steve to hear.

“I didn’t want to walk home like that. I want you too much. I can’t stand it,” he says, feeling soft and overwhelmed.

“God, you’re so sweet like this. Tell me you’ll do what I want tonight.”

Maybe that should raise alarm bells in his mind, but he aches and Bucky is so distracting, his grip hard and solid as it moves over him. He holds the back of Steve’s neck in his hand and starts pushing Steve down, over his lap. Steve squeaks. “What are you doing? Bucky!”

“He looks docile, but I assure you, he’s the most stubborn omega you’ve ever seen. Keeping him in line is a constant struggle,” he says, letting his hand rest on Steve’s ass. Oh god. He isn’t. He can’t. The cab driver laughs.

“Do what you need to do. Omegas in America have too much freedom. Too many rights. It is good to remind them who is in charge.” The cab driver’s accent is thick, almost unintelligible. Like a typical New York cab driver he’s an immigrant from somewhere. Apparently, from somewhere oppressive.

He can hear the laughter in Bucky’s voice as he addresses Steve. “You hear that, sweetheart? Too much freedom. He doesn’t like all the freedom. He’s old fashioned.”

Steve elbows him in the side. But he doesn’t try to get up. He absolutely will deny it, but it’s superfucking hot to be taken over Bucky’s knee in the back of the cab. Bucky smacks him. Harder than he has the rest of the night. Just a few times, most of his time is spent rubbing and squeezing Steve’s ass, Bucky’s hips pressing up into him, stoking his own arousal, rubbing himself against Steve.

And then! Bucky has the nerve to dump him to the floor, shoves him off his lap so he’s in the well, staring up at him open mouthed in shock. “Give me your hands,” he orders.

Steve does. Because… well, because. He’s blushing. He’s definitely leaking.Steve risks a glance out the window and thank god they’re getting close to home because he’s genuinely thinking about blowing Bucky in the back of a taxi like some two bit whore, and he doesn’t even know how he’d deal with that in the morning.

Bucky pulls out a length of braided satin rope fromhis pocket. It’s even red. “Where the fuck did you get this?” he asks, because he’s shocked.

“Very bad manners,” the taxi driver says.

Bucky’s grin almost makes it worth it, “Yes, he has _very_ bad manners. A _very_ filthy mouth.”

“_Me?_ The things you say are—” the rope coils around his wrists. Steve can’t help but watch. He doesn’t even know what he was saying. “alpha,” he breathes, while Bucky ties the knot. Steve leans forward, kissing Bucky’s hand, the side of his thumb, the knuckle of his middle finger, whatever he can as Bucky secures his hands together.

The taxi comes to a stop and Bucky opens the door, helps Steve get out of the car. He starts to close the door, “Shit!” Bucky says, and opens it back up, grabs the bag from Cleo’s and then shuts the door, giving the rope a tug. Steve stumbles into him.

“This is really… um,”

Bucky huffs a laugh. “Go on, pal. Tell me you don’t fucking love it.”

He doesn’t even try. He lifts his hands, brushing the soft satin against his face. It feels amazing. “I’ll do your legs when we get upstairs.”

“What?”

He follows Bucky up the stairs, Bucky holding the rope in his metal hand. He shouldn’t like the fact that it’s the metal hand more. That shouldn’t mean anything. But, the contrast of the silver metal with the red of the rope and his own comparatively fragile skin, is beautiful. He’s going to draw it tomorrow. Over and over again, he thinks. Hands in rope.

Hands are a pain in the ass to draw. But, fuck it’s incredible and he wants to spend tomorrow dwelling in this moment, how it looked and felt to be hauled up the stairs by Bucky with his hands tied. As soon as they’re in the apartment Bucky has him shoved against the door. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to take off the ropes just so you can take your clothes off and put on something pretty for me. You’re to go to the bathroom if you need to and get your sleeve and any other toys you like out for me, and then I’m going to fuck you.”

Steve’s hands are suddenly free and he attacks Bucky, kissing him hard, with a growl, so fucking turned on and aroused he can’t help himself. He undoes Steve’s pants himself, shoves his flesh hand inside and starts stroking Steve’s knot.

“Fuck! alpha. Too much.” It snaps him out of his alpha instinct and drops him back down to where he likes to be, needy and soft. Feeling like Bucky’s omega. Which is a peculiarly helpless feeling.

“You should have been good then.”

It’s like he’s been punched. Bucky somehow has him turned, bent back over the couch but now his pants are shoved down and his ass is bare. Bucky smacks him, twenty with the flesh hand and then twenty with the metal. The metal ones are harder, they smart and he struggles at ten. He settles into it just when it’s almost over and then Bucky has a hand on his neck, standing close as Steve shuffles out of his shoes and pants, awkwardly holding onto the couch. His shirt goes next and he’s naked. Bucky offers him the bag.

“The Nightie. Put it on.” Steve opens the bag, finds the garment and his hands fumble it, dropping the slippery garment to the ground. He tries to bend over to get it but Bucky’s hand is iron. Steve growls. Reaches behind him and grabs Bucky’s hips.

“Sorry.” Steve’s heart is beating through the roof.

“Pick it up. Slowly,” he orders, and his flesh hand slides down Steve’s back, knuckle brushing between Steve’s cheeks and pressing against the rim of his hole.

He bends down, mortified, humiliated, ass still hot from the spanking and Bucky makes a pleased sound as he presses the knuckle harder against Steve’s hole. He picks it up and tries again, hands shaking to put it on. Bucky kisses his neck and then turns him around. He feels like a doll, a thing, turned and posed as Bucky wants.

“Arms up,” he orders, and he slips the garment over Steve’s head. Steve runs his hands over the cool, silky fabric, wants to see himself in the mirror. Bucky is retying his hands. He leads Steve to the bedroom and drops the rope. “Go get your things and put them on the bed.”

Steve moves, feeling dazed as he opens the bottom drawer and awkwardly takes out the sleeve and vibrator. Bucky disappears to the bathroom, comes back a few minutes later with a towel, lube and more rope.He tosses them to the bed and takes off his clothes as he approaches. That’s something else to draw, he thinks, as his perfect body is revealed.

“Tonight is all about yoursubmission. You’re not going to come or even move unless I tell you to. I’m likely going to fuck you. If I can keep you down tomorrow in the right headspace I will. Doyou understand?”

Bucky starts touching him, his chest and his cock, his balls. He slips back around to Steve’s hole. “I can’t believe I get to have you like this, Steve.”

“You said it wasn’t a big deal.”

Bucky winces. “If it doesn’t happen, that’s fine. But, we both know that when you put your mind to something, it fucking happens and god help us all.”

Steve is taking that as a compliment. “You’re going to fess up to wanting it then?”

“Yeah. I confess. I do. It’s being _inside_ you. Steve, I’m going to have you split open on my cock. I’m going to come inside you. You’re going to whimper and come for me. I love you no matter what, you know that. But, you want this. You want it even if it hurts. I think you’re hoping it will. I can be greedy and selfish with you. With my omega. And, the truth is, I want to fuck you so god damn badly.”

Steve kisses him, is rather quickly on the bed, legs spread and forehead pressed into the bedding. His hips are churning and his knot fucking hurts. Rope goes over his arms, his bicep and then to his thighs, securing him so he has to keep his ass in the air and his head down. “Bucky,” he grits out, as Bucky ties the second arm and leg. “I don’t know if I can do this. I have to pull. I’m sorry. Thisis too much. I’m sorry,” he says, voice low. His heart is racing and his breathing is fast.

“Okay, go ahead,” Bucky says, much too calm. Steve pulls. The ropes hold.

“What?” he gasps, and tries again, straining. Bucky’s got a hand on his lower back, rubbing a soothing circle while Steve thrashes. Uselessly. He flops to the side and strains with all his might, trying to get the ropes to break, knows he’s going to bruise, skin chafing.

“Fuck,” he manages, and Bucky has slick on his fingers, reaches between Steve’s legs and swipes it over his hole. One finger presses into him. The fight goes out of Steve. He pants. He’s broken into a sweat. Bucky’s finger is inside him, gentle but deep. This is happening.

“Babydoll, you’re so hot inside. Look at you. Are you ready to behave now? Be my good girl?”

“The ropes,” he says.

“Vibranium threads weaved into it. You’re not going anywhere until I let you.”

Bucky’s finger comes out of his ass, his thumb brushes gently over the opening. He’s looking at the sleeve and the vibrator Steve has laid out on the bed. He seems unimpressed. Steve’s hole is sensitive. His cock twitches, the fabric gets damp from his leaking.

“You’ve bought the cheapest sex toys possible.”

“That’s not true.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Lucky for you I’m in charge of it now. That won’t do at all.”

Bucky wipes his slick hand on the towel and reaches into a bag. He has some sort of genuine sex kit thing. Including a knot sleeve.

“This one is inflatable and vibrates. You’re welcome,” he says, lifting up the hem of Steve’s nightie and resting it higher up his chest. He pauses to play with Steve’s nipples and then fits the sleeve over Steve’s cock. He squeezes the pump and the compression on his cock makes him shiver and arch. “How is that?” he asks, touching the material. It feels incredible. Like a hand is gripping him tight. It’s soothing and a little maddening. Frustrating. Bucky picks up the controller and flicks it on. The buzz is faint but the effect is intense and immediate. He pushes against the ropes again, straining, fucking up into the air as pleasure rolls through his shaft and deep inside him.

“Jesus. I won’t last.”

“Good. I’m going to play with your hole while you ride that out. You’re going to be so fucked out, sweetheart.” He lays down beside Steve, pillows his head on his arm and plays with Steve’s tits, kisses his mouth while Steve writhes and struggles helplessly on the bed, the sensation on his cock a pleasurable torture.

“alpha?”

“What?”

“Can I?”

“Of course you can, babydoll. Let me get a finger in you first. Hang on.” Fingers slip down, press against his hole and one sinks in, rubs gently against his prostate and Steve comes. He comes so hard it hits his own chest and Bucky turns off the controller, lifting up so he can keep his hand in Steve’s hole. He doesn’t stop touching Steve’s gland, keeps rubbing at it and fluid continues to seep out of him in dribbles, long after the last shock is gone and his breathing has gone back to normal.

“Nowyou can have two. Here you go. My little omega.” Bucky gets up again, another squirt of lube to his fingers and then two are rubbing at him, pressing and slowly easing inside. “Turn your head,” Bucky orders, and his head lolls to the side, eyes closed as Bucky marks his neck up. The fingers thrust into him harder and Steve makes a sound, tries to open wider.

“Three?”

Bucky’s teeth settle into his neck, hard enough, wide enough to make him feel threatened, for the hint of his instincts to rise up. But three fingers get pushed into his hole and it’s total overload. His brain doesn’t know what todo with all that sensation. That feeling. He goes limp again and Bucky moves over him, settles between his legs, slicks his cock up and all Steve can do is look at him, watch him. How flushed he is, how beautiful. He’s biting his lip and the scent of lust and need is pouring off of him. He’s been so patient, so slow and gentle but it’s looking like that’s over now.

“We’re going to try. Yeah?”

He nods. He wants it more than anything. Bucky exhales, looks down, notches the head of his cock to Steve’s hole and presses, little thrusts as he works the head in. There will be a moment when it pops in, where Steve should give and just open a little. “Tell me.”

“I want it.”

Bucky laughs. “That’s not the answer I was— Steve, you’re so tight. You’re incredible. Tell me if it’s too much. Fuck,” he gasps, and he shoves hard forward, breaching Steve, the head lodging into him. Bucky kisses him, frantic, bites his lip and then the other side of his neck, teeth latching onto him, demanding his submission. He arches his hips, tilting, desperate to take him all the way in. Bucky shudders, shoves deep again and Steve slides up the bed. It’s a lot. Tears burn in his eyes.

Bucky is hot, the heat of him, sweat sliding on Steve’s chest as his alpha ruts into him. “Fuck. Tell me to stop. If you tell me I can,” he says, shaking as he holds himself still.

“More. alpha. Need you deep.” Now I’m an omega he thinks, some base part of him that equates getting fucked with fulfillment. The satisfaction he feels, the sense of rightness makes him want to cry. Bucky did it. Has made him submit so hard and washed away all of his alpha instincts in the moment, the urge to fight and to fuck, to mark and control everything, all of that has been stripped away. This is perfect. This is what he wants. “Thank you.”

Bucky grunts like he’s in pain and there’s a heavy solid thrust that shoves him up again. Bucky’s arms go under his shoulders, keeping him still, so Steve won’t slide up on the next thrust. The next one, he thinks dizzily. The next one will be a lot. Will be so much. So deep and so powerful. Steve’s passage stings. Ripples. His cock is hard again and he feels so good that it’s hard to open his eyes. He has to. He can’t miss it.

“I’m okay, alpha.”

“Stevie,” he says, sounding like he’s far away. His kiss is messy, artless, something Bucky seems to know he should do, maybe wants to do, but the urge to rut has him almost mindless. “Breed you, baby. Fill you up.”

“I’m empty, alpha.”

Bucky growls and fucks him, slamming up as he pulls Steve down. He gets seated fully and Steve can’t breathe through the shock of it all. Bucky leverages himself up, stares down at Steve and grinds into him, cocky heavy and so hard. So big. Steve feels it before Bucky does.

“Untie me. Don’t leave but untie my legs. Please. _Please_,” he begs.

It’s a flick of his hand to undo the knot and then the other and Steve wraps his legs around his waist. Bucky pulls the tie of his hands too and he wraps his arms around his alpha, holding him tight,urging him to fuck. Little movements, Bucky’s head pressed into his neck. The pressure on Steve’s rim becomes intense, too much but he holds on tight.

“Fuck. Steve,” Bucky gasps, as he realizes that his knot is popping, that his grinding and rubbing has all been focussed on massaging his knot, getting it to plump up and swell. He tries to pull back but Steve wants this. He uses his strength to keep him there, legs locked, ass open and receptive as Bucky’s knot swells inside of him.

“I’ll hurt you. Let me go,” Bucky gasps, blinking through watery eyes as he looks at him.

“I’m okay. Promise. Alpha. Hush. You’re okay. I’ve got you.” Bucky sobs into his neck, his hips grind into him, little frantic movements as he swells and finally locks into place. Bucky comes, clutching Steve tight and he feels every pulse of it inside him, rubs Bucky’s back as he comes, sobbing at the intensity of it all.

“Please tell me I’m not hurting you.”

“You’re not, sweetheart,” Steve says, kissing his mouth and then his jaw, his neck. He licks the salt there, rubs his nose over the skin and stays calm as he can. He tilts his head back, doesn’t even want to be tempted by the idea of biting, of being an alpha. He needs to stay submissive, stay passive and relaxed until the knot goes down so he doesn’t hurt himself.

“It’s so fucking big, Bucky. Need you to help me, alpha.”

Bucky kisses him, and then pins Steve’s hands above his head, squeezing hard. “Good little omega. Look how sweet you are. How perfect. My big cock inside you. You made me knot, baby.”

Steve nods. Tries not to cry. “I wanted it. Didn’t think you could….”

His laugh is strangled. “Well, that makes two of us. I’ve knotted you. Poor baby. God, you feel incredible.”

A shudder goes through him again. Bucky moans and grinds into him, unloads again and Steve can feel him start to soften, the incredible burning stretch changing into a throb. Bucky kisses him lazily for long minutes, until he slips out and then he goes down Steve’s body, pressing kisses to his skin as he looks at his hole.

“You’re so red and puffy, baby.” And then he kisses it.

“Bucky!” he says, scandalized. “Now _that_ is beyond the pale!”

Bucky gives him a look. “Doyou want meto stop?” he asks, all snark. He gives the area a gentle lick and Steve slumps back to the bed.

“Fucking hell, it shouldn’t feel like that,” he says, and tangles his hand in Bucky’s hair so he doesn’t stop.

***

Steve wakes up in Bucky’s arms, ass pleasantly sore, a smile etched into his face. He already wants it again. He kisses Bucky’s chest. “You know, if I did four fingers or slept with a plug, I could take you again right now.”

Bucky opens one eye to look at him. “I don’t know if I can get it up again.”

“You have an insatiable omega,” he says, and feels himself blushing.

That gets Bucky to open both eyes. “You are, you know.”

Steve shifts over him, shoving the covers out of the way while Bucky rolls to his back. Steve grabs the lube and slicks up Bucky’s cock, giving him a raised brow.

“It’s a miracle,” he says, winking. “Your tits have brought me back to life,” he murmurs, fondling him as Steve puts Bucky at his entrance. He’s sore. He’s hard, too. He takes his time, Bucky flushed and brows drawn under him as Steve’s tight heat slowly envelops him.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but if you don’t knot, I’ll survive.”

“Too big?” he asks, like the smug alpha asshole he is.

“No, totally average. I’m just too small,” he says, to be a punk.

“Now you’ve hurt my feelings.”

“I’m making it up to you. God, you’re big. I love it.”

“I love you. Kiss me. Please?” he asks, and it dings in the back of his mind how easy Bucky is with this, with being pinned under Steve, with asking for what he wants and waiting for Steve to give it to him, like his alpha instincts have calmed down, soothed by his omega. Just like it should be. Just like he always knew they were supposed to be.


End file.
